Stumbling From The Woods
by JackNorton
Summary: Terrified, tired, lost and hurt she stumbled from the woods right into his life. But who is she? What is it she's running from? ""So what's your name?" "I don't know," she whispered, "I can't… I don't remember anything.""
1. Prologue

Prologue

BPOV

"Why aren't you up?"

His voice, laced with hints of anger, jolted me awake from the drowsiness I had been in and out for the past few hours.

"James…" I whispered hoarsely, finding it hard to speak. "It hurts, James. My side…and my arm. I can't move my arm. It hurts so bad..."

His face morphed into an eerie expression, which he probably thought was loving and caring but was actually creepy as fuck, and I hated him just a little bit more.

"What is it? Do you need some painkillers?" He moved to my side, and I cringed when he touched my cheek.

"James, I think we need to go to the hospital. I think my shoulder is dislocated…or broken, and I think a rib's broken, too." I didn't mention the fact that it was _him _whohad done it to me, for fear I would set him off again.

His eyes widened. "No. No, no, no, no, no. NO! I can't_. I can't_. We can't leave the house. You can't leave me." He turned to me with frantic eyes and begged, "I can't lose you again, sweetie. We can't risk that. You belong with me."

I gritted my teeth together and screwed my eyes shut before forcing out, "Jamie, I won't leave your side, but we must go to the hospital. This is bad, and it'll only get worse. _Please?_" The last word was a sincere plea. I looked up at him. I could feel tears on my cheeks.

He stood up abruptly, rubbed his face roughly, and then started to pace around my little room, muttering to himself.

I couldn't make out what he was saying, and I didn't really care. I had heard enough of his nonsense. Especially in the past week. He had gotten so much worse. He hardly slept. He hardly ate. And his violence had just kept escalating. I closed my eyes and breathed deep and slow, trying not to move too much.

"Okay." His voice was but a quiver. "I trust you, sweetie. You proved yourself to me, and I trust you." I opened my eyes, and he looked torn, crazed, disheveled... _As always._

"I'll have to handcuff you, sweetie. I can't risk anything. They can take you away from me again. I know a doctor in town… He can look at you I trust him."

I clenched my eyes shut again and breathed out, "I don't care. Just get me help."

"Do you want me to carry you to the car?"

My reply was instant.

"No."

I sat up slowly and groaned from the pain in my shoulder and side. This fucking asshole had seriously done some damage this time. Not that it was the first one. I couldn't say that I regretted it now; this way I would have a better chance to escape. There was no way I was missing this opportunity.

I could barely stand. My head was spinning, and it wasn't from the pills he had been giving me every day, since I hadn't taken one last night. Maybe I had a concussion... I had to wonder how I knew these things. How did I know for sure that I had a broken rib and a dislocated shoulder…? It was so natural, like breathing. I just _knew_. Maybe I was a… Was I a nurse…or a doctor?

I left my room and stumbled down the dark hall, leaning against the wall with my left side. Every step reverberated with a dull ache in my body.

James held the front door open for me, and I stepped out into the bright morning light. It was sunny, and I squinted up at the sky with a small smile. The last time I had felt direct sunlight on my skin was over a week ago. This place was usually rainy, and the surrounding forest was thick and dark. I had hardly ever left the cabin.

I made it into the cab of James' beat up truck with great difficulty. He hovered over me but fortunately didn't make a move to help me. Once I was in, he grabbed my arms, and I cried out in pain.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, sweetie, but I have to handcuff you." His voice was gentle, pleading..._disgusting_.

I turned my head away, fighting the tears, and he slowly handcuffed my hands to the handle above the door.

Aside from the pain in my shoulder, I would now have to deal with numb hands, since they were lifted above my head.

James hopped into the cab. The engine came to life, roaring loudly, and the sound hurt my...everything.

I peeked out the window, trying to understand _where in the world _we were_._

The road we were on was barely visible under the old leaves and withered grass. Everything was brown and green, and there were so many pine trees. It seemed like we were far away from civilization. But it didn't matter anymore; we were getting closer to it. And fast. _Too fast_.

I looked at James, and he looked insane. He _was_. His lips moved furiously, but whatever sound came out was masked by the incessant roar of the engine. His movements were jerky and there was a slight tremor in his hands. The road was bumpy, and he was driving so fast that it was beginning to seriously hurt me.

"James..." I said softly, but he didn't seem to hear me. "James," I said again, more loudly. He threw a quick glance my way but otherwise didn't react. "James, slow down! You're driving too fast!"

James suddenly floored the pedal, and I was thrown forward with great force.

I didn't even have time to scream as something flashed in front of the car - some animal…deer, maybe. James shouted something and turned the wheel sharply. The world spun, tires screeching, and then everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was Friday, the end of the week, which was always a busy time. Pretty much every man in Forks would come in – to talk, to meet, to celebrate to relax… Fridays were always a nice day at the bar. No one ever got too drunk, no one ever started any fights, and no one ever got too bitchy. Everyone was usually in a good mood, coming in to drink a beer or two – nothing too heavy – and patting each other on the back, repeating over and over like a prayer, like an anthem, like an answer to all of life's questions, "Thank God it's Friday!" No matter the age, the work place, or status, Friday was like a little national holiday that brought together hearts and smiles and the clinking of beer bottles and glasses. I felt myself relaxing in this place as it buzzed with alcohol and men.

Except today it wasn't all men.

"Hello, Edward." Her voice, once cheerful but now always dull and quiet, drew my attention like a sad nightingale's song in an eagle's nest. I turned to her and smiled gently.

"Hey, Al, what's up?" I took Mr. Newton's empty beer glass off the counter and wiped the wooden surface with a cloth.

She shrugged and looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. "Nothing much. Can I have a glass of wine?" She seemed distracted as she climbed onto the barstool.

"Of course. Red or white?"

"Red. Dry, please."

"Coming right up. So, where's Jasper?" I asked while busying myself with her simple order.

She shrugged again and looked down at the counter. "Working."

"Wow." It was almost 9pm. "He sure works hard," I said as I handed her the glass.

"He likes it," she whispered before taking a sip of her wine.

"Ed!" Emmett boomed from the other end of the bar.

"You good?" I asked Alice, and she nodded, not looking away from her wine.

"Okay, call me if you need me, Acile." She chuckled softly at her old nickname and shook her head at me.

I grabbed two beers and walked over to Emmett and the chief, who were sitting together.

"Gentlemen," I greeted them, opening the beers for them.

"Hello, Edward," Charlie greeted me while Em chugged down his beer. Once he was finished with the bottle, which only ever took him about 30 seconds to do, he smacked his lips together and made a satisfied sound, gesturing at me for a repeat.

"Man, what a week!" he proclaimed, clinking his new bottle to the chief's this time.

Charlie snorted and shook his head.

"What?" I asked, chuckling.

"I'm telling you," Emmett pointed his finger at me and leaned over the bar with his other hand, "This town does NOT need a police station. I feel like a cheater! Seriously! I get paid for sitting around and playing games on my computer!"

"And eating doughnuts," offered Charlie.

"Hey, hey!" Emmett turned to him, his eyes wide in astonishment. "I'm not complaining about that one! That's like a fucking silver lining in my job!"

Charlie continued to chuckle in between sips.

Em turned to me again. "I swear, one more call from Ms. Catty Kitty Cat about her damn kitten in a tree…"

I couldn't help letting out a loud snort.

"The woman is crazy! She needs a canary, not a cat! Oh, wait… No, screw that, she needs a fish or a hamster. Hell, a man, for fuck's sake!"

"Emmett!" Charlie admonished him.

"What?" He turned to the chief with a look of wonder on his face once again. "She's not even that old! What is she, like, sixty-five?"

Charlie coughed loudly, sputtering beer all over the counter.

"Jeez, Chief, what the hell?" Emmett patted him on the back, and I quickly cleaned the mess.

"Sorry, son," croaked a now red-faced Charlie.

"It's okay," I waved him off.

He turned back to Emmett and gave him alook. "She's not even fifty!"

Emmett just stared back at him indifferently for a few seconds, and then his lips slowly formed the biggest, smuggest smile I had ever seen and his eyes filled with mischief.

"Oh, okay, Chief…" he drawled out, winking at him.

Charlie huffed and took a sip of his beer. "So, how's it going, Edward?" he asked me calmly, changing the subject and ignoring the way Emmett continued to stare at him with the same ridiculous smile plastered all over his face.

"Eh, busy, loud good… It's all good."

"No funny business this week?"

"Nah, it's pretty calm during the week. And Jake helps out on the night shift during weekends, so it's all good. But thanks for asking."

He looked me in the eye, as if trying to read if I was doing well on my own, but I wasn't lying, so he sighed and put his empty bottle on the counter with a thud.

"Okay, boy. Thanks for the beer." He waved a five dollar bill in the air and lowered it into the tip jar. I rolled my eyes at him, as I always did. The man would never learn to appreciate that his beer was on the house.

"You're welcome, Chief."

"You have any problems, you call me." He waited for my nod and then patted Emmett on the back. "Goodnight, boys. Be good!" He directed his warning to Em with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I'm always good!" He rolled his eyes when Charlie's eyebrow traveled higher. "Look, it was, like, a month ago, so quit bringing this shit up." He turned away from Charlie and mumbled stubbornly in his bottle, "Still, it was funny as fuck."

"Quit being a punk and be a father!" said the chief sternly, but I could see the way his eyes sparkled and how his mustache twitched in humour.

"Yes, sir," said Emmett solemnly.

Charlie's amused glance fell in my direction as a farewell, and he strolled unhurriedly toward the exit, giving back pats and hand shakes left and right as he went.

"Man…" sighed Emmett, shaking his head. "You gotta admit that shit was hilarious!" He quickly looked for a companion in me. "I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard! And my kid was so happy, he almost peed his pants! That freaking old bat, God bless her humorless heart…" He continued to curse Mrs. Cope, his neighbor and a well-known tattle-tale, who had been quick to call the police a month ago to inform them that her neighbor had finally lost it, climbed into a trash can, and had his 5 year old son push him down a hill. That was the day that Em became a hero, with a capital H, in the eyes of his son, and Rosalie officially became a mother of two.

Emmett left not long after that, but his walk to the doors, unlike Charlie's, was accompanied by half-hearted waves and grumbles of various greetings to the patrons.

I chuckled at him and looked at my watch. Jake had to be here already. As if on cue, a frazzled looking Jake ran through the door behind the bar and hurriedly threw a black apron on.

"Hey, Ed," he began with a gasp, "sorry I'm late. Dad thought it was a good idea to have a walk when it was just about to rain." He rolled his eyes and fixed his ponytail.

"Everything's okay, though?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said distractedly, already gathering the empty glasses from the counter. "But his wheelchair got stuck in the mud." He tried hard to sound annoyed, but by the tone of his voice, I could tell he was amused. "The man was soaking by the time I got to him and pulled him out." He chuckled and shook his head. Not waiting for a reaction from me, he got to business and started to fly around the room, picking up bottles, plates, and glasses while good-naturedly interacting with the customers.

Jake was a good worker, and he would be missed when he finally went to college. He hadn't made a decision yet, but I knew he would go eventually He was too smart not to go. Billy was getting better, and there was no point in Jake staying in this rainy puddle of a town, bartending his life away.

One by one, people started to flow out the doors, leaving behind the weight of the work week and taking the lightness of the now weekend, caused by beer, with them.

Jake and I chatted effortlessly and worked as a team to put the place back together. He told me things I already knew, like how Billy was getting better since his car accident from a year ago, and that he thinks about college and wants to enroll somewhere by the end of the winter. Jake loved Forks, but like he said, "Forks can't give me everything I want." He was excited at the prospect of living in a big city, meeting new people, and learning new things. He wanted to study engineering.

I was proud of him and happy for him. I hoped he would love it in Seattle – or wherever it was he planned to go – and wouldn't be disappointed as I had been. I had been as giddy as he was right now about the same stuff, but it had turned out that I didn't much care for big cities.. They were too fucking loud, too fucking fast, and too fucking crowded. I had felt suffocated there. So it was no wonder that I had packed my shit the day I got my degree in Civil Engineering and moved back here. I was well aware that that wasn't something most people would have done, but I liked it here. It was quiet, still, calm, and the landscape was unrivaled. Even the constant rain brought some sense of comfort to me.

When we were finally done for the day, Jake left through the front door and I locked it behind him. With a sigh, I looked around the vast room. This was my pride and joy, my creation and sanctuary. It was the only thing left of my heart that would never be betrayed.

I caressed the bar counter in a goodnight gesture on my way out the back door.

Once outside, I locked the door and then lit a cigarette, savoring the first drag..

It was cold, and the rain penetrated the air with tiny little drops, making it humid and heavy. I loved it.

There was a path right behind the bar that went through the forest and led right to my house. It was secluded and hardly visible to the naked eye, but I knew it by heart.

I walked silently and slowly between the trees; the sounds of the forest and the thick smoke from my cigarette were my only company. I allowed myself to relax finally and not think about anything, enjoying the quiet.

Suddenly I heard something different. Something – or someone – was running through the forest. Whatever it was, it was moving rapidly, stumbling through the trees and tripping loudly over fallen branches. It seemed anxious – something that I was not familiar with within this forest.

It wasn't big enough to be a bear, and it was too loud to be a deer.

I stopped and listened carefully to see if I could gauge where the noise was coming from. It was ahead of me and to the left, farther from the town's main road. I tried to peer into the woods, but it was already too dark to see any more than about 10 feet in any direction.

The noise got closer, and I quickly moved behind a tree, just in case it was some lunatic with a hatchet.

But it wasn't a killer. It was a… girl? I could now see her small frame and long dark hair. She was gasping and limping, and her hands were folded under her chin in an attempt to keep warm. It looked like she had been in the forest for hours. Her jeans were all muddy and wet from the knees down, and her long-sleeved shirt was torn in some places.

I stepped out slowly from behind the tree, not knowing how to make myself heard and not scaring her too badly.

"Um…hello?" In the almost empty forest, even my soft voice sounded loud.

She screeched and collapsed to the ground, shielding her head. I had anticipated some surprised reaction, but this…?

I took a step in her direction and could now make out the heavy bracelets on her wrists. Were those handcuffs? "Hey, it's all right." I kept my voice calm and quiet, so as not to scare her even more. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly she raised her head, and I could see that she was a young woman, around 23 years of age, and she was as pale as a ghost. Her dark eyes looked huge, framed within her heart-shaped face. Her nose was red and runny, and her entire body was shaking. She looked up at me, and her eyes grounded me, holding me in place. Chills ran down my spine when I saw the desperation, fear, fatigue, and the tears in her eyes, and she whimpered out a tiny little word, like it was her last hope, her last chance to escape the darkness she was running from.

_"Help."_

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**Thanks** **A LOT to Tina, who beta'd this mess. Thanks for reading**_. _**Next update - next weekend.**_  
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	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

_…Chills ran down my spine when I saw the desperation, fear, fatigue, and the tears in her eyes, and she whimpered out a tiny little word, like it was her last hope, her last chance to escape the darkness she was running from._

_"Help."_

For a moment, I felt like the world had frozen over. One of those out of body experiences, when you observe everything perfectly but can't process the information fast enough.

It took me a few seconds to realize that I had to do something, say something, _help her _somehow.

A million questions ran through my mind, but I couldn't concentrate long enough to focus on one, never mind think about what I should ask first in a situation like this. Who was she? Where—or who—was she running from? Why was she running? Why the handcuffs? Why the fear?

I crouched before her and blurted out without thinking, "Are you hurt?" It seemed like a good question—she looked hurt, more so mentally rather than physically—but I also knew we needed to get out of the woods. Her physical condition was at the forefront of my mind. "My house isn't far from here. I can get a doctor to wait there for us while we walk."

She nodded fervently, her huge brown eyes never leaving mine. "Yes, yes, anything," she whispered earnestly. She tucked her hands back under her chin and tried to lift herself up using her legs alone. I took her by the elbow, in an attempt to help, but she cried out loudly and jerked away from me, cradling her right arm close to her body.

I raised my hands in the air, palms up, in a sign of surrender. "Hey, it's okay, no touching then. Sorry."

She looked me in the eyes suspiciously, as if searching for something, and then shook her head a little. "No, I… My arm hurts." She reached her hands out toward me slightly in explanation.

"Oh, okay then… Umm… You okay walking? It's not far from here." I nodded in the general direction of my house.

She clenched her jaw, lifted her chin a little, and then nodded curtly. _Not much of a talker, huh?_

I started to walk slowly, keeping an eye on her. I could probably pick her up and carry her the whole way, which would've been a hell of a lot faster, but I didn't want to scare her or make her uncomfortable. Plus, it seemed like she was stubborn and didn't want to show her pain. I could see it in the way she hid her limping and held in her gasps of pain, which I had heard earlier. She looked determined now—she was still shaken and scared, but now her steps were sure and firm.

I took off my jacket and slowly draped it over her shoulders. She glanced at me and quickly dropped her gaze to the ground, mumbling a quiet 'thank you'.

I took my phone out of my jeans' pocket and dialed Carlisle. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you at the hospital right now?" If he was, then I'd probably have to drive her there.

"No, I'm not working nights this week. Why?"

"Uhh…" I glanced at her, thinking about what to tell him, "I… Can you come to my place right now?"

There was a brief pause before his reply.

"Sure. Why? Is something wrong? Are you okay?" His concern was understandable—it wasn't every day he got a call like this from me.

"I'm fine… there's a… a girl. She got lost in the woods, I guess." I didn't feel like getting into too much detail over the phone—plus, I didn't really know any of the details, did I? "Her arm's hurt and maybe something else, so could you come check her out?" I glanced at her, but she kept her gaze down, not acknowledging my words.

"I'll be there in eight minutes." Carlisle's accuracy at things like that always made me chuckle, but not this time.

I thanked him and hung up, then turned in her direction. "The doc will be there."

She nodded and whispered another 'thank you'.

We continued to walk down the path in silence. The sounds of the forest were now completely eclipsed by the rain—old leaves and pine needles were rustling softly, disturbed by the tiny drops of rain.

I wasn't sure if I should ask her something, since every question I had was, while obvious, kind of heavy, and I wasn't sure if it was the right time, or if she was even ready to answer it. I had never been good at this investigating shit; I was more of an observer. It was obvious that she was running from someone because she kept looking back over her shoulder, or she would scan the trees ahead of her every so often. But it seemed like she wasn't in a hurry anymore, so whatever had been chasing her, it must've been far away from here, and her state of alarm was nothing but a lingering effect.

Soon there was a clearing in the woods, and we were approaching my house from the backyard. It looked even lonelier in this weather. Dark and empty.

I ran up the porch steps swiftly, opened the door, and ushered her inside, turning the lights on. I led her through the kitchen, which was in the back of the house, to the living room, turning on the lights there as well.

"You can sit wherever. Carlisle should be here—" my words were interrupted by a knock at the front door "—in a second," I muttered and went to the door, raking my fingers through my hair.

Carlisle was wearing a white button down and gray slacks. I swear, you could never catch this man unawares. Ever the doctor, he had brought his first aid kit with him.

"Hey," I greeted him. "Come in". I let him inside and gestured to the couch silently, where the girl was sitting. She was eyeing us from under her lashes, and her body language almost screamed, 'BACK OFF!' but she needed help, so whether she liked it or not, help was what she was going to get.

Carlisle nodded to me and then approached her slowly, using his serious but gentle bedside manner.

"Hello, my name is Carlisle Cullen. I'm a doctor. Edward, here," he pointed me out with his thumb, "said you are hurt. Do you mind telling me what's wrong?"

She continued to stare at him, sparing me a quick glance when he mentioned me, and then nodded slowly.

"My shoulder," she breathed, "I think it's dislocated." She hesitated for a moment and then added, "And my side… a rib. I think it's a rib… Broken or something."

"Okay," said Carlisle, like she was just an ordinary patient of his. "You mind if I have a look?" he asked, pointing at her shoulder, and then he sat down when she nodded.

While he was checking her, I moved to the other side of the room, where I could see Carlisle's face and the girl's back, and leaned against the wall.

"You didn't tell me your name." Carlisle tried to distract her a little by filling the awkward silence with small talk. A doctor's trait, I thought, rolling my eyes, but her answer brought my amused annoyance to a halt.

"I don't know," she whispered brokenly.

Well, _damn_.

Carlisle stopped what he was doing abruptly and looked her in the eyes.

"Uh… I'm sorry… what?" he stuttered. I would have found it funny that he had lost his professional face so quickly and completely, but the situation wasn't funny at all.

She hung her head and her body shook with little gasps.

"I don't know," she whispered again, and there was desperation in her voice now. "I can't… I don't remember anything."

Carlisle shot me a concerned look, and I was sure I was wearing the same expression on my face as well.

I was stunned into complete silence, but Carlisle quickly pulled himself together and asked, "Do you remember how and why you ended up in the forest?"

She nodded but didn't elaborate.

"Do you remember where you were yesterday? Two days ago?"

Again a nod.

"Okay, I think we should take you to the hospital. Your shoulder is indeed dislocated, and we need to x-ray your side to look at that rib. Is that okay with you?"

She nodded again and then peeked at me over her shoulder, whispering hoarsely, "Can you call the police?"

-XXX-

I was pacing around the empty waiting room, clutching my hair with my hand.

I called Charlie the moment we left for the hospital, and he arrived right away, asking me questions while Carlisle tended to the girl. When he was done with me, he left to question her. That had been thirty minutes ago, and I was a fucking anxious mess, which I couldn't understand why.

Once she had asked me to call the police, something snapped in me. I had felt…well, at first I had felt relief. I couldn't help but to feel suspicious. I mean, who wouldn't? A girl in the woods, handcuffed and running from someone? Throw in the amnesia, and I couldn't help at the time but to wonder if she was an escaped convict. What better chance would she have than to get "lost" and start over again—a new place, a fresh start. If she _had been_ running from the police… I just didn't know if I could have turned her in. I guess I wouldn't have had a choice in the end, but I had been sure I could have found a way to avoid it for as long as possible. She was just so… _broken_, so _lost_, so _scared_. I had refused to believe she was guilty of something. And in the end, she wasn't, so all my worrying had been for nothing..

What I didn't understand was why I felt so worried about her and why I was anxious to know more. I mean, I didn't even know her. Hell, she doesn't know herself! But there was something about her… She was so small and she had fought so hard… She reminded me of a scared kitten—a creature innocent and harmless in itself, but when there was no other choice it fought with all its might, clawing its way out, hissing and dashing and hiding.

I wanted to know more about her, about what had brought her here. Call it curiosity, healthy interest, or something else; it didn't matter. I just wanted…_answers_.

Finally, I heard footsteps in the hall and turned to see who it was, my anxiety skyrocketing. It was dark in the hall, so I didn't see Emmett until he got under the light of the overhead lamps in the waiting room.

"Edward? Dude, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" He quickly looked me over, noticing my state of agitation.

"What? Oh, no, I… Did Charlie call you?"

He seemed surprised by my question, "Yes, how did you know?"

"I'm the one who found the girl," I stated simply.

"Oh. Man, this is some crazy stuff. Nothing like this ever happens in Forks!" exclaimed Emmett, clearly a little too excited about the situation. "Anyway, I get it, you brought her here. But what are you waiting for?"

I didn't know how to explain it to him, never mind to myself, so I just shrugged and told him a half assed truth.

"I just wanted to see what's going on, you know? Maybe, I don't know…offer some help?" It wasn't that bad an excuse. I always volunteered in search parties and such. I hoped Charlie would let me in on this situation as he'd done before. Friendship with the Chief and life in a small town sure had its benefits. Sometimes I felt like a cop, being included in a tight circle and privy to confident information. Not that this was, like, top-secret or anything. I mean, it's fucking Forks we're talking about.

"Oh, that's cool. I have a feeling Charlie will send my ass into the night to search-"

His words were interrupted by hurried footsteps down the hall, and soon Charlie appeared at the door to the waiting room. He dived right in, not bothering with small talk.

"Okay, here's the deal. The girl doesn't remember anything about herself. Carlisle said she has post-traumatic amnesia, or something like that. She apparently suffered a concussion a couple of weeks ago, which probably caused the amnesia. So," he let out a huge gust of air, "I guess she _was_ kidnapped. And if she wasn't, then she was definitely held against her will. His name is James. They were living in the woods, somewhere between Forks and Port Angeles. I assume it was to the right of the highway, seeing as how she didn't cross any roads before she got to Forks. She talked him into seeing a doctor about her condition, but they got into a car accident in the woods. The man was unconscious, so she took her opportunity and she ran."

"Holy f—" Emmett breathed out, but Charlie interrupted him with a sigh.

"Exactly. I need you to find the car. Get to the highway and inspect every side road on the right that leads to the forest. It might be unnoticeable, deserted, so look closely. Bring someone with you, just in case. If we find the car, we'll find the house. I expect you to report in every 15 minutes, and I'll join you in the search right after I finish up here."

"Yes, sir." Emmett was standing taller, his 12-year-old persona all but forgotten. He was a cop now. "I'm bringing Edward so we don't waste any time."

Charlie looked at me, as if searching for a sign that I was good enough for this mission. I squared my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. _I can do this. _He nodded slowly, wished us good luck, and then disappeared back down the dark hallway.

Emmett let out a loud whoosh of air, hit me on the back, and clutched my shoulder, shaking me a little—just enough to make my teeth rattle.

"Dude! Can you believe this? I feel like I'm in some cool movie about cops! Now _that_ is a dream job! That's why I became a cop! Come on, let's find that fucker and knock his balls into his stomach."

In no time, we were traveling along the highway, but we had to slow down considerably in order to search for side roads and paths wide enough for our car to pass through. We were moving at the speed of a snail, peering out the windows, trying to see shit in complete darkness.

After 40 minutes of searching and four side roads that had led to dead ends, Emmett's excitement died down a little.

"This shit's ridiculous!" muttered Emmett. He was sitting on the edge of his seat leaning into the windshield as close as he could get. "There is no road at all! Just, like, some clearing, I don't know… And if the bastard didn't use it often, we won't be able to notice it, especially in the dark."

I didn't bother with a reply, sure he didn't need one. We continued to search in silence. It was eerie as fuck, which only added to my adrenaline fused anxiety. The rain let up, and I'm sure if we had stopped and turned off the engine, we would be immersed in the kind of silence that enveloped you completely and intimidated you into whispers and slow careful movements.

"Fucking hell, ma—"

"There! See it—right after those bushes?" I pointed to something that vaguely looked like a road.

"Where? This one?" he stopped the car and looked at the bushes and tall withered grass along the highway. "Does it seem like a road to you?" he asked, peering into the dark.

I shrugged, not taking my eyes off of the woods. "It does seem like a clearing. Come on!"

"I hope we don't get fucking stuck there, Ed…" he muttered, turning the wheel and skidding slowly off the highway. "I fucking hate the forest at night," he mumbled, looking forward, trying to see shit past the light of the headlights.

The tension in the car was so thick, it was hard to breath. I couldn't even think about the possibility of some maniac stalking around. It wasn't about the physical fear; it was the eeriness that gave you chills and made you feel like your heart had expanded exponentially in fear. My legs started to shake, so I cracked my knuckles to distract myself.

"Fuck this shit," Emmett spat out suddenly and revved the engine. He drove the car as fast as he could in the dark on the hidden road. I understood his motivation; it was like ripping a band-aid off—the sooner we got to the end of the road, the sooner we could breathe.

But we didn't get the chance to see what was at the end of the road. Out of nowhere, an old red truck appeared, its front end smashed against a tree. The car was tilted a little to the side.

Emmett let out a low whistle and stopped the car.

"Okay." He sighed and looked at me. "Stay close to the car—or even better, stay in the car. I'm going to check." Just as I was about to argue, he pointed his finger at me, "Don't!" His glare was enough to shut me up. He quickly radioed in to Charlie, and then he unclasped his gun and slowly got outside.

He bent down a little and briskly moved to the truck, holding his gun down with both hands. Once he got there, he peered into the cabin for a few seconds, then in a flash opened the driver's door and pointed his gun inside.

My hand shot to the door handle, but I didn't dare to step out and distract Emmett.

He leaned inside the cabin, and a few seconds later started to walk back to the cruiser, tucking his gun back in its holster.

"What's inside?" I asked as soon as he opened the door.

He didn't answer me; instead he leaned in, grabbed the radio, and spoke into it. His words were loud and sure.

"C01, this is C04, over."

Charlie's voice answered immediately. "C04, this is C01, proceed. Over."

"Codes 504-A and 200, side road, eighteenth mile on Forks-PA highway. Over."

"Received. Will be there shortly. Over."

"Over and out."

For the life of me, I couldn't recall what code 504-A meant—probably an accident—but I knew what code 200 meant.

_Dead body._

* * *

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	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

We sat in complete silence for a couple of minutes, staring at the track ahead of us, until Emmett sighed and dimmed the headlights a little. I raked my fingers through my hair.

"Is he dead?" I asked, just to disturb the heavy silence.

Emmett scratched his chin and nodded.

"This is some excitement, huh?" he muttered before chuckling darkly. "Man, it's a good thing he's dead. One less sick fucker. On the other hand, this will complicate things so much— the whys, whens, and wheres." He sighed. "Could've been interesting to hear his point of view."

I didn't agree with him, but I didn't say anything. I saw the girl's eyes, saw how frightened she was. I certainly wasn't sorry he was dead.

"You know," I said instead, "I'm always undecided about psychos like this one. On one hand, abusers, kidnappers, and all these fuckers should be dead or killed for what they do, but on the other hand…death seems like such an easy way out. You know, people that suffer from their hands every day sometimes wish they'd kill them already. They see death as an escape. And these…these people, they shouldn't be allowed an escape. They should suffer."

"Yeah. Guess they didn't invent a punishment like this yet. Plus, we don't really know if he was a psycho."

"What do you mean?" I asked a bit harshly.

Emmett looked at me funny and said slowly, "Because…we don't know anything yet? The girl's beaten up, yeah, okay," he lifted his hand to stop me from arguing, "but for all we know, she fell down the stairs or, I don't know, got hit by a car. _Something_. Hey, I'm not defending anyone! I'm just waiting to get all the facts straight, is all." He side-eyed me and added with a small smile, "Jeez, you seem too invested, Ed. Something you wanna tell me?"

I rolled my eyes and turned to the window.

"Aww, I think I know—"

"Charlie's coming," I interrupted him, seeing the headlights of his cruiser in the side view mirror flicking through the trees.

Emmett chuckled and got out of the car.

I sulked for a minute and then stepped out as the other car neared us.

While Charlie inspected the body and the car, another police cruiser pulled up.

"So, what's up, Chief?" Sam's deep voice sounded too loud in the quiet of the night. He and Seth came up to us, and we shook hands. Charlie hooked the flashlight he was using onto his belt and greeted the newcomers.

"The driver's license says his name's James Smith. 32 years old and lived in Port Angeles. It all could be fake, though, but at least we have something." He handed the driver's license to Sam. "Check it. The ambulance is on its way. Stay here and look around for anything odd. Once the ambulance retrieves the body, search the car thoroughly. Check for fingerprints, leave no stone unturned. If we don't return by the time you're done, go up this road; there must be a house somewhere…" He looked into the darkness and frowned. "I'm taking Emmett and Edward with me."

We got back to our cars and started to move slowly, Em and I leading the way.

"It's going to be one hell of a night, eh?" muttered Emmett. The tension was left behind, but instead something heavy lingered in the air. Was it the not knowing what we would find? Was it the presence of death? Was it the dark relief I felt combined with fatigue? I glanced at my wristwatch and sighed. It was already midnight.

Fifteen minutes later, the road led us to a clearing, where an old wood cabin stood.

Emmett whistled and stopped the car, and the headlights lit up the porch. Charlie parked beside us and we exited the cars.

"Well…_that_ doesn't look like it belongs in a horror movie," Emmett said sarcastically, folding his hands across his chest. "Wanna go first, Chief?"

Charlie examined the house from a distance, scratched his brow, and then pulled his gun from its holster.

"Come on," he said, patting Emmett on the back, "Edward, stay here until you get the all clear."

They walked slowly to the front door, and Charlie tried the knob. The door opened with a nasty squeak. He shone his flashlight into the room, holding the gun up in his other hand, and disappeared inside.

I lit up a cigarette and looked up into the sky. Here and there, stars were making brief appearances behind the heavy clouds. I looked around the clearing and noticed a small barn off to the side. There was a rustic pathway that led to it. It looked like it was built not too long ago, in contrast to the house, which was old and shabby.

I smoked my cigarette and listened to the quiet rustling of the trees in the distance. I could also make out muffled sounds coming from inside the house, and I wondered if this guy owned the place or had just found it. For how long had he been planning all this shit? Had he lived here before kidnapping the girl? Had he kidnapped her with having this isolated cabin in mind? And then there were bigger questions like why her? Was she a random victim or had he known her? Had she really been held against her will? I shook my head remembering the handcuffs and her terrified eyes. Of course she'd been.

Suddenly, Emmett loudly clapped his hand on my shoulder, and I jumped and dropped what was left of my cigarette.

"Whoa, Bambi! You okay? Need a minute to change or anything?" Emmett looked at the seat of my pants suggestively and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Fuck off," I muttered, shrugging him off. "So, what's going on?"

He laughed and turned toward the cabin. "You can come inside, there's no one here. It looks…" he sighed heavily and scratched the back of his neck, "it looks just like what a cabin is supposed to look like when someone is held against their will inside. Bars on the windows," he pointed to the window beside the front door, and sure enough, there were bars, "plastic utensils, canned food, no mirrors or razors or anything sharp…"

"Okay, I'll go take a look."

"Yeah, go ahead. I should radio the guys."

I stepped inside and looked around as much as the light from the cars allowed. It was even smaller from the inside. There was a couch, an old looking chair, a bookshelf… The air was stale and dusty, and the floorboards creaked softly under my weight.

The chief appeared from another room, illuminating the few possessions the living room had with his flashlight.

"I'd say the house was readied for her. I mean, the bars and the lock on her door," he shone the light on the door to the right, where a new, shiny keyhole could be seen, "but I can't say anything for sure yet. Here's the bathroom," he pointed the flashlight on the door by the left wall and then swung it around slowly in an arc, "kitchen…there's the victim's room…his room is down the hall. No way to escape. Plus, I think he kept her drugged. I found some pills in his bedroom. Quite a lot, actually. Poor child," he muttered under his breath.

I felt bile rising in my throat, so I clenched my eyes shut and balled up my fists. I breathed in and out slowly, willing the disturbing images out of my head. I hoped against hope that it was not as bad as it looked, but fuck… _FUCK!_

"I'll be outside," I managed, and without waiting for his answer, I briskly walked out of the cabin and gulped at the fresh air in an attempt to calm myself down.

Emmett was leaning against the side of the car, staring into the sky. I walked over to him and sat carefully on the hood.

"I regret quitting smoking," he said suddenly. "That shit is fucking priceless. Helps you relax, think…it busies you when you have to wait, and at times like this, when it's just…you know, I could use a fucking cigarette." He finally turned his head to me and asked, "Know what I mean?"

I chuckled and took out a cigarette. I definitely needed one. "Yeah, I get it. What I don't get," I paused and took a pull, "is how you get away with cursing this much around your kid."

Emmett frowned and looked away. "Yeah, Rose hates it… But you know I love my kid. We both do. You know how he is; he's fucking sweet and smart and polite. He's great." He looked at me as if he were trying to convince me. "I mean, he knows his boundaries. He knows what's good and bad. So, what's the big deal if I curse? I'm a good dad, I love him and his mother with everything I have, I provide for them, and everything. And there are things much worse than cursing." He turned his eyes to the house and his frown deepened.

I didn't expect him to get so serious and defensive, but he was right, even if I wasn't sure about this whole cursing-around-kids-is-okay thing.

"Plus," he boomed loudly, with a smile in his voice, "cursing is fucking _nice_!" His eyes widened, and he grinned from ear to ear.

-X-X-X-X-

Emmett dropped me off at home around 5 am. Over the course of the night, we inspected the cabin and its environs. There was nothing of interest though; no documents, no photographs or mail…there wasn't even a pen or pencil. The cabin was pretty much empty, with the exception of furniture, a few items of clothing, some books, and a shitload of canned food and meds—painkillers, sedatives, and antidepressants. Where could he possibly get this insane amount of pills, I'll never know. There were no notes, no letters, no newspapers—nothing. It seemed like the only thing we had were the driver's license and the car. But even they led us to nothing.

When I got inside the house, I collapsed on the couch. I was exhausted but still somehow wide awake. I sat there for a couple of minutes and listened to my body, waiting for the fatigue to come back, but I felt only this buzzing feeling—the kind you get after staying up all night. A second wind.

I sighed heavily and rubbed my face. I had to do something with all this energy. I got up and ran up the stairs to my bedroom, where I changed into sweats and running shoes. Once back outside, I locked the door and walked around the porch to the back of the house, where some bowls sat in a corner. They were all empty, which reminded me I was out of milk. I looked around for any signs of him and found none, as always. The bastard only uses me for food.

I shook my head and ran down the porch steps, around the house, and down the street.

The air was crisp and fresh. I could almost smell the coming fall. September was coming to an end, and the leaves on the trees were already beginning to change color to beautiful shades of yellow and red.

Since I lived on the outskirts of town, on my rare runs I usually ran to town, past the diner, library, and school, straight to the heavenly smelling bakery that my mother owned, called Baked Dreams.

The bell rang softly above my head when I opened the door, and the comforting smell of fresh bread and baked goods almost knocked me off my feet. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. _Heaven._

"Coming!" My mother's voice sounded from somewhere in the back.

Not ten seconds later, she rounded the corner with a tray full of steaming hot bread rolls My empty stomach rumbled appreciatively.

"Good morning, how may I…" She placed the tray on the counter and finally looked at me. "Oh! Edward! Hi, dear, how are you?" She smiled warmly at me, the way only a mother can.

"I'm okay. Everything's fine, I'm just tired."

"Well, why are you up so early then?" She started to arrange all the bread rolls, and I eyed all the goodness hungrily.

"Actually, I didn't sleep at all. Dad told you about last night?"

She looked at me again, her eyes full of concern.

"Oh, yes, the girl you found. Gosh, that poor child! But she's okay now, isn't she?"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess she is… I, uh…I went with the police last night. We found the place where she was being held."

Esme gasped and lifted her hand to her neck. "God, I hope nothing's threatening her life now!"

I frowned and looked at the floor. "I hope not, but nothing's clear yet."

She didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't the one for gossip or fishing around for answers; she always said that if there were things she should know, she would know them when the time was right

She poured me a cup of coffee and served me a piece of apple pie with ice cream, and when I finished, she asked me to drop some cookies off at the hospital for Dad.

"It's his favorite, and he hasn't had them in such a long time." She smiled fondly.

"Of course." I kissed her goodbye and made my way to the hospital.

The sky was clear, and the sun was already starting to warm the air. It was fresh and nice, quiet and peaceful, but the heavy feeling from last night wouldn't leave me for one second.

I walked the one block to the hospital, greeted the receptionist, and then ran upstairs to my dad's office.

"Come in!" he called, after I knocked.

I walked in, and before he could tear his eyes away from some medical magazine, I dropped the bag with cookies on his desk.

His head shot up and he smiled at me. "Edward, hello, what brings you—" He stopped the moment the aroma from the bag hit him. He side-eyed the simple brown bag suspiciously and then looked at me again. "Have you been at the bakery?"

"Maybe…" I grinned.

He grabbed the bag without taking his eyes off of me then opened it and took a whiff before closing his eyes.

"Ah…chocolate chip cookies! This day's definitely getting better."

"I brought coffee, too." I chuckled and sat in the chair. "So, how are things?"

Carlisle shrugged, staring absentmindedly into space while munching on his cookie. "Things? Good. Your mom wants to start the garden, like she doesn't already have her hands full with the bakery…"

I smiled a little but then frowned, glancing to the side. "I mean…I mean…how's…how are things with the girl?"

Carlisle stopped chewing and looked at me as if just noticing I was there.

"She's fine, surprisingly," he said after a pause. "No permanent damage or anything. We just need to wean her off the meds she was taking because they're addictive. Her hand's fixed, and her rib's fractured, actually, not broken. She'll be okay."

"Yeah, but Charlie said she had amnesia or something?"

"Oh, so he told you? Well…yes, most likely it was caused by some kind of trauma. Physical or mental, but I'd say physical, due to a concussion. The test results will be ready today."

"Why do you think so?"

"Oh, it's just a guess. You know… I was there when the chief asked her a few questions, and it seems like that man didn't do anything but beat her from time to time and shove meds down her throat. And she just seems so…I don't know, fierce?" "She seems so strong and determined. She's not ashamed of anything, but she's scared and trying to fight her fear. Doesn't seem like the man could do much mental damage to her, but then again, I don't know for sure. If the results come in showing a concussion, I'd say it'll take her a couple of months to recover, and that's it."

"What kind of concussion could cause amnesia?" I asked, astonished.

"In a situation like this, even a mild one. But it'll pass with time. Once the traumatic memories fade a little, she'll remember more." He took a sip of his coffee.

I sat there for a moment and thought about everything he'd said.

"She wasn't…sexually assaulted, was she?"

My father shook his head no.

I felt so relieved that it surprised me. I mean, I'd probably feel the same way with any other woman who'd suffered the way she had, but…but somehow I felt very strongly towards this girl. I couldn't understand what it was about her, but I wanted to know everything about her, about what he'd done to her. I wanted to revive him and kill him all over again. Who was she? Where was she from? Did she have family? What does she do for a living? And suddenly a thought came to me.

"Where will she live until she remembers who she is? I mean, the police can't even file a decent report on her. They don't even know if she's from Washington!"

Carlisle frowned. "Yeah, that's a problem. I need to talk with the chief about that."

"She can stay at my place," I blurted out.

"What?" He had been about to place the cup on the table, but his hand stopped mid-air.

"Uh, I mean…my house is large enough for the two of us. She won't even know I'm there. Plus, I'm working, so I won't bother her much. She'd get lots of rest and everything. Where else can she go, right?"

My father was still holding his cup above the desk, and I began to sweat beneath his confused stare.

"Look, never mind, I don't know why I said it, I just thought—" I started babbling, but my dad stopped me.

"No, I think that's a fine idea. We'd better talk with Charlie about that, though." He finally lowered the cup and wiped his mouth with a white cloth handkerchief. "And the girl, of course."

I heaved a sigh of relief, but my head was still spinning from my abrupt suggestion.

"So…you'll talk to Charlie?" I said as I stood up, rubbing my damp palms against my sweats.

"Yes, sure. He should be here around noon." He stood up as well and straightened his lab coat. "I take it you didn't sleep last night?"

"Nope."

"Well, get home then, son. I'll call you later."

I exited his office with a strange feeling of excitement and anxiety, but I decided to ignore it and just…_be_ for now.

* * *

><p><strong>Forgetting to say, that I don't own. In case you were wondering. Yeah.<strong>

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**Thanks for reading and alerting and everything. Really.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The phone was ringing somewhere, and I couldn't understand if I was dreaming or not. I groaned and squinted at the clock. It was 2:46 pm. Oh, man, I had another 14 minutes of sleep. I got up groggily and looked around my bedroom, trying to locate the phone, which was vibrating its way annoyingly across my dresser.

"Hello?" I croaked, not bothering with looking at the screen.

"Are you sleeping?" asked Carlisle, somewhat amusedly.

"No…" Not anymore, anyway.

"Oh. So…um, I talked to Charlie, about your suggestion?" he sort of asked, and for a second I tried to remember what the fuck he was talking about, until it hit me. _The girl. _I'd found the girl in the woods, and she had nowhere to go after they released her from the hospital. Holy shit, what was I thinking? And what was the deal with all the excitement I felt about that?

"Edward?"

"Yes, I'm here. So, what did Charlie say?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"He's grateful, actually, because things don't look very, uh…promising. So, he agreed to it and talked to her about it."

I froze, with one eye shut, the other one wide open, and breathed out slowly before asking in the most aloof manner I could muster, "Yeah? And what'd she say?" I started to ruffle through my clothes, loudly for good measure. I didn't really know why I was acting like this, but I think the way I really felt about it wasn't normal. Or maybe it was, but not when I was speaking to Carlisle. I felt like perhaps I had to be somewhat…_professional_ about it.

"She was alarmed a bit, but Charlie explained things to her, and it's not like she has a choice, after all." He sighed. "And she agreed, only if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you. Son, are you sure about this? There's time to back off. I mean, we could think of—"

"Dad, it's fine. Really. The house's huge, and I'm working evenings, so she'll get plenty of space and rest, and everything."

"I was worried about you, actually." He chuckled softly. "I mean, are you okay to have someone in that house?" he asked reluctantly.

"What house?" I snapped. "It's an ordinary fucking house; a huge-ass, empty, useless house!" I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. "Look, it's okay. _Really_. It's actually great, because it finally gives me a chance to clean it up." I huffed. "Speaking of which, how much time do I have until she's released?"

"A couple of days, I think. Edward, I'm so—"

"Hey, it's fine. Listen, I gotta go get ready for work. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yes, okay. Goodbye, son."

I hung up the phone and looked around the room in anger. _That house._ It's not like I'd built it with a certain person in mind. It's not like I'd built it specifically for _her_. I just wanted to have a family one day, and I wanted them to live in a big house. I think I knew, even back then, that it wouldn't be with Jane. It had taken me a long time to realize that, though. She'd never even had a chance to live here, or anywhere, for that matter.

I shook my head and headed to the shower, thinking about how I really did need to clean the house. Not that I was messy, it just needed some…tidying up. Plus, I guess I would have to set up a bedroom for the girl.

_The girl._ What in the world was I supposed to call her? I wondered briefly, and somewhat amusedly, if we should've asked Alice. She'd probably take one look at the girl and guess her name, or surname. How she was able to predict and know things was beyond me. She wasn't always spot on, but she was always close to the truth. It was freaky, actually. I guess she had a sixth sense, or a strong intuition, or whatever it's called.

I pictured the girl in my head and tried to imagine what her name could be. She was so tiny and fragile, with those huge brown eyes… _Bambi,_ I thought with a snort. But the comparison wasn't far off. I mean, she was just like a deer; scared yet delicate. On the other hand, there was a fierceness about her. The determination in her eyes made her look powerful, strong, and her beauty only added to that image. She looked lost and broken but ready to fight; gentle yet ferocious, like a swan…

I shook my head and scoffed. Swan? Beauty? Where did _that_ come from, Cullen? You saw the girl for, what, like half an hour, and already you're daydreaming about her? Knock it off, motherfucker.

I got dressed and stomped down the stairs, before stopping by the fridge, which was fairly empty, to get some water. Well, a trip to the grocery store was in order, too. Which reminded me, I forgot to buy milk for that furry ass. Oh, well. It's not like he visited me very often these days, the little shit.

-XXX-

The bar was buzzing with the news about the girl found in the woods. It was huge for Forks, where the biggest crime ever committed was when Mr. Stanley, drunk off his ass, hit a tree while avoiding a cow. No one got hurt, except for his old rusty car—and maybe his pride.

I got a few curious looks, and a couple of direct questions, but I tried to avoid answering, saying I didn't know anything, which was kind of true.

I tried not to listen to any of the talk, but I couldn't help catching some snippets of conversation: "_I heard she was naked when they found her, didn't speak at all, and behaved like a wild animal,_" or "_Someone said she's a criminal, that her hands were handcuffed. Must've escaped the Forces,_" or "_Mrs. Cope told me that the woman is a member of some sect__. Better stay away from her._" But some rumors were actually closer to the truth. The gossip mill was in full force.

"Edward, hi." I turned and saw Alice perched on a stool, her nose a little red and her eyes glassy.

"Hey, shorty, what's up?" I eyed her fidgeting hands on the counter.

"Oh, fine, just fine," she said, but her voice sounded a little off, a little fake. She smiled jerkily and looked away. "Can I have a glass of wine, please?" she asked, looking at her hands.

I stopped polishing the glass I was holding and leaned toward her.

"Hey," I whispered, waiting before she hesitantly met my eyes, "are you okay?"

She heaved a sigh, as if in relief, and I smelled alcohol on her breath. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she answered, with a fake smile. "How are you? How are things running?"

I watched her for a moment, wondering if I should call Jasper.

"I'm good," I said cautiously, getting her a glass and filling it with red wine. "Things are good. Nothing new, though. Jasper's working late again?" It was eight o'clock.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed in her glass. "There's some project he wants to finish. Takes a lot of time," she said, kind of automatically, before looking away again.

"I see." I also saw that they weren't as inseparable as they were a couple of months ago, before Alice had the miscarriage. I wondered again if I should talk to Jasper to see how he was doing. He'd buried himself in work once Alice was released from hospital, and we'd rarely hung out since then. Even if working was his coping mechanism, he really shouldn't be leaving Alice like this. It would only end badly. I wondered how long she'd been spending nights alone. Maybe I was just overreacting, but the bags under her hazy eyes bothered me. I was not a relationship counselor by any means, and this really was none of my business, but I couldn't just pretend that everything was fine and continue looking on as my friends drifted apart like this.

I kept an eye on Alice for the rest of the night. She didn't seem too drunk, and I was relieved but still concerned at the same time. I called her a cab, though.

Around 1:00 am, the last customers finally stumbled their way out. My lack of sleep caught up with me, and I was ready to go home and collapse on my bed. And to think, back in college, I could run two—or even three—days without sleep. I guess, at 28, I was too old for that now.

And because my every thought was linked somehow to the_ girl, _I wondered how old she was. She looked so young. If she'd been underage, her disappearance would've aired 24/7 on every channel in every state. Maybe that had happened What if she was kidnapped months ago? Years, even?

I shuddered and refused to think about it. It was over now; she just had to get better and re-gain her memory I wondered how long she'd have to stay here_…with me. _

I wondered what it would be like to live with her. Would we get along? For all I knew, she was just a pretty face with an annoying personality, and here I was, signing up to have her stay with me for an indeterminate amount of time. But, on the other hand, she'd seemed quite. polite and shy, strong and smart. _Beautiful._

"Edward!"

Startled, I lifted my gaze from the spot on the counter I'd been wiping for far too long. Jacob was looking at me with a grin on his face.

"Dude, you okay?" He chuckled.

"Uh, yeah, fine. Just…thinking."

"So…what's been going on?"

"Where?" I asked stupidly. I had no idea what was he talking about. Or maybe I did.

"I mean, this whole business with the police and some girl."

"Oh," was my bright answer, "Err…I don't really know, Jake. Why?" I wasn't sure I was allowed to share any information, and even if I was, for some reason I didn't want to.

"My dad heard some stuff." He shrugged and continued mopping the floor. "Apparently, the police found a girl in the woods. Said she was running from some maniac. I don't really know…dad doesn't like to gossip."

I hummed thoughtfully and busied myself with collecting empty bottles.

"I just thought maybe you saw Emmett and he told you something." I stayed silent, and he added in a rush, "Hey, I'm not fishing or gossiping or anything. You know me, Ed, it's just…man, it's so damn crazy." He stopped for a moment and looked at me, wrinkling his nose.

And I couldn't agree more. It _was_ crazy_._

-XXX-

Sunday morning, I woke up to the sound of deep meowing coming from the backyard. Jesus, I hadn't seen him in _weeks_, and now the bastard shows up and meows his shaggy ass off at, what, 7 fucking 40?

I lay in bed for a couple more minutes, trying to shut him out, but then I got up and stomped down the stairs. I walked to the back of the house and threw the door open, and sure enough, there he was, a little thinner and a lot dirtier., ,,ббб

He shut up right away and looked up at my bedroom window on the second floor before looking back at me and meowing softly.

"Dude! What the fuck!" I exclaimed, opening my arms wide as if to emphasize my point.

He meowed again and ran to me with his tail up in the air, cheerfully. He got on the porch and started to rub himself against my ankles, purring loudly.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"I don't even have any fucking food for you," I grumbled, sitting down to rub behind his ear. "Okay, stay here. I'll look for something edible." I sighed and got up, walking inside to rummage through my empty fridge. I found a piece of cheese I didn't even know was there, and the tiniest piece of bacon. It would have to do, since I doubted he'd like lemon or mustard.

I didn't stock up on food very often. Mom said that was because I lived alone and didn't care about my health. Hmph! I would have to buy food in advance now that I wouldn't be living alone. It wasn't like swan-girl had any money.

_Swan-girl? Really? _

Annoyed with myself, I went back outside and dumped my poor excuse for cat food into one of the bowls I kept on the porch.

"Here you go, Red. It's not much, but that's what you get for disappearing for two weeks."

I straightened and looked around. The morning was bright. Birds were chirping in the woods, and the sky was clear. What a wonderful day to spend inside, I thought sarcastically. But you gotta do what you gotta do.

I filled another of Red's bowls with water and then lit a cigarette. I would have to get dressed soon, and I decided I would go to the bakery for breakfast. Maybe I'd grab something for Dad, too, which would be a good excuse to visit him and ask him more about the girl. Maybe I should get some pastries for her too. I mean, we had to officially meet at some point. We were goin to be roommates soon and all. Plus, Mom's pastries were a must. I wondered if she would prefer something fruity or with meat? Maybe she was a vegetarian. Hmm, how can you know you're a vegetarian if you don't have a clue about yourself? I decided I'd just grab a variety and let her choose. I could eat the ones she didn't want. There was no such thing as eating too much of my mom's pastries.

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><p><strong>Do you talk to your pets? I do. <strong>

**Please review. It take little time and makes me smile hard for two days.  
><strong>

**Thanks to Tina for setting me straight and laughing at my 'pasties' *fp*  
><strong>

**I own nothing but the cutest cat named Red. Or Fred. Or Fredrikson.** **Guggenheim. Yeah. What's your pet's name?  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 5

**I don't own Twilight. I own a kitten who's constantly sick, though(  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

I knocked on the door softly and poked my head in the hospital room. _Her _hospital room. My palms felt a little clammy for some reason. My gaze instantly fell on the bed where a small figure lay folded in the fetal position facing away from me.

"Hey," I whispered. She didn't react, so I thought she was sleeping. _Damn._ I wasn't expecting this. Didn't doctors check on patients at the crack of dawn?

I looked back over my shoulder, contemplating whether I should leave or not before glancing down at the small, delicious smelling bag in my hand and then back at the girl. _Yeah, why not._I decided to leave the bag by her bed.

As quietly as possible, I slowly walked into the room and around her bed, but I stopped as soon as her face came into view. Christ, but she was beautiful. Her skin was so pale, and there were deep shadows under her eyes, but her full lips and high cheekbones, her slightly up turned little nose, her long dark lashes… She looked so peaceful, so content, but her closed off positioning gave away her tension and fear and discomfort.

I crept to the bedside table and carefully placed the bag there. I glanced at the door and then back at her, not ready to leave just yet but not wanting to seem like a creep either. I raked my hand through my hair and sighed. _Yeah, I should go._

Just as I touched the doorknob, I heard her stir and whisper, "Edward," almost inaudibly.

I froze, not sure if she had, in fact, whispered my name or if I had just imagined it. Slowly I turned my head in her direction. She was still facing away from me, unmoving. Could she…could she be dreaming about me? A thrill shot through my body, some weird electrical sensation, and it spread warmth all through my body. I tried to fight away the smile on my face as I stood there with one leg raised, mid-step, and my arm extended to the knob.

"Edward," she said again, and this time it sounded clear. She actually sounded somewhat…_stern_? I frowned, confused, but then she looked over her shoulder sleepily. "Hi," she said, a little hoarsely.

_Oh._

_Shit. _

All thoughts left my brain, and I just stood there, incapable of speech. Was I busted? Should I feel guilty? Was I a creep? A pansy? I mean, Jesus, did you really think she was dreaming about you? _Yeah, right_. Well, at least I got my foot on the ground, thank you very much.

"Um, hello. I just, um…" I waved my hand stupidly in the direction of her nightstand. "I…I brought you some breakfast. Just…it's nothing special." _Uh huh_. "Just some pastries. I hope it's okay. I mean…do you like pastries? There's one with meat and one with strawberry."

She furrowed her brow a little and looked away for a second.

"I don't really know," she said slowly before looking up at me again.

_Right. She doesn't really know, you ass._

"Well…why don't we find out, then?" I smiled a little and walked hesitantly to her bedside, not sure if I was welcome after all.

"Okay," she said. She sat up and propped up her pillows behind her.

I exhaled with relief and walked over to her nightstand.

"My mom works at the bakery," I said, busying myself with the contents of the bag I had brought. "I usually go down there in the mornings to have breakfast with her. Or, rather, _I _have breakfast and she just keeps me company." I pulled out a little juice box and put the straw in. "I would have brought you some coffee, but I was worried you might not be allowed to drink it or something. Here," I handed her the juice and moved the bed tray closer to her, "enjoy." I smiled briefly and was rewarded with a timid smile and a breathy 'thank you'.

"You, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?"

She tore her hungry eyes away from the food and waved distractedly at me. "Sure, sure."

I picked up the chair by the window and sat beside her bed.

Her mouth was full of meaty goodness, and she groaned and rolled her eyes at her first bite.

"Ohmygoshdisissogood." She took another bite. "I guess I'm not a vegetarian after all, eh?"

I chuckled, and her eyes shot up to meet mine.

"Are you…?" She angled her plate toward me a little and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, no, thanks. I just came from there. I'm full."

"Lucky me!" She smirked. Jesus, she was cute. "Oh, you can't imagine how much hospital food sucks. I can't wait to get out of here and cook something She stopped abruptly mid-chew and stared off into space. "Wow."

"What? What is it?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head and looked at me dazedly. "I…apparently I can cook. I think I love it, actually. So that's what it feels like…" she finished vaguely, looking away again.

I frowned, trying to understand what the hell she was talking about.

"How does _what _feel?" I asked again.

She turned to me with the same look of awe on her face.

"_Remembering_. I don't…I don't have a clue about myself. I don't know my name, where I am from, what I do… Hell, I don't even know what my favorite color is!" She frowned again. "But Dr. Cullen said that it will all eventually come back to me," she said more calmly. "Just like that. He said I'll blurt things out just like that." She quieted and looked to her lap.

"Hey," I said gently, not liking this quiet side of her one bit, "it's gonna be all right. All your memories are still there," I put a finger to my temple, "you just need to relax. Heal. Feel safe again. It will all come back to you."

She nodded and smiled a bit still not looking at me. "You're right," she whispered.

"So," I said more loudly and cheerfully, "about that favorite color of yours? That's simple, lady." She looked at me with curiosity, and her smile widened. "Black?"

She scrunched up her nose adorably and narrowed one eye.

"No, not really. It's…kinda flat."

"Okay. Um…grey?"

Again the face. "Grey is nice, warm, like pajamas!" Her eyes lit up, and she grinned at me. "It's soft, but it's not my favorite, no."

"Hmm, pink?" Maybe she was a girly girl?

She pouted a little, and I wished this game would never end because she was so cute to watch.

"It's okay—but not intense pink, you know? Just…a soft pink."

"So…soft pink?"

"Nope. Next!" She dug into her pastry again.

"Blue?"

"Blue… Eh." She shrugged one shoulder.

"Okay. Green?"

She hummed and looked up at the ceiling.

"You know what?" She turned to me with a little smirk on her face.

"What?" I couldn't hold my smile back.

"I think green's the one." She smiled broadly and finished her pastry triumphantly, continuing to smile while chewing.

"See? That wasn't so hard! Plus, we now know that you love grey jammies."

She giggled with her mouth full, holding a hand to her mouth, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

"Thank you, Edward, so much," she said seriously, smiling warmly.

"It was my pleasure," I answered quietly.

She drank some juice and picked up another pastry.

"So, um," she busied herself with her food, splitting the pastry in half and rubbing her fingers together to get the crumbs off, "Dr. Cullen told me about…your offer?" She looked at me with a wary look on her face.

"Oh." I shifted in my seat and brushed an imaginary piece of lint off my thigh. "Uh…"

"Edward, thank you so much for your offer, but…" _Uh oh_. "But is it really truly okay with you? I mean, I'm literally off the street. You don't know me. Hell, _I _don't know me! I could be a thief, for all I know. How can you possibly welcome someone like me into your _home?_"

I still didn't lift my eyes to her. How could I possibly welcome someone like her into my home? Well, how could I _not?_

"Maybe because it doesn't really feel like my home…" I muttered, rubbing at a spot on the linoleum with my sneaker. She quieted again, and I looked up at her saddened face before rushing to continue "Hey, I know what you mean, but really, it's okay. I thought about it," _sort of_, "and I really am fine with it. Where else can you go? They can't let you stay in the hospital, and the police don't give away apartments to lost people. And I have this huge-ass, useless house all to myself, and I'm barely ever there, so…why not put it to good use?"

She looked very thoughtful for a long moment.

"I would be a crazy person to pass up an offer like this. Well, crazi_er_. You understand that I have nothing, though, right? I mean, I can't even pay you back or anything. I don't even have any clothes except for the ones I was wearing the other day."

"Oh, well, you could cook, you know…" I grinned a little, not sure if it was okay to joke like this. "If you're good, it would be like an overpayment. I'm not so fond of the kitchen, to be honest." I grimaced.

She smiled warmly, and my smile broadened.

"I hope I am, then. Oh, and I could clean, too!"

"What! No, no way, what are you—?"

She interrupted me exasperatedly. "Look, I…I can't possibly sit around all day. I have to do stuff, you know, normal, everyday stuff. The doc said every little thing can help to trigger my memories. I have to do something!" She pressed her fist to her chest and looked at me pleadingly.

Well, when she put it _that _way…

"You're right, but you have to take it easy." I pointed a finger at her.

She saluted and grinned at me.

"So, we've got a deal?" she asked adorably.

"Yeah, we do."

She extended her hand to me, and I stood up to shake it to finalize our agreement. Her hand was so soft and small in mine, and all too soon it was gone, but not before she looked deeply into my eyes and said, "Thank you, Edward. Thank you _so_ much.

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><p><strong>Well, whaddaya know, her favorite color is green! <strong>

**What colour's your pajama?  
><strong>

**.  
><strong>

**If you like to see what you read here's some visuals (remove the spaces) http www . polyvore . com sftw_ch set? id 48979429 (just imagine the house with a wrap around porch, k?)  
><strong>

**Or just find me at http jacknorton . polyvore . com  
><strong>

**Thanks to Tina, who's awesome and made me smile on this shitty evening.  
><strong>

**And thank you everyone, who's reading, reviewing and/or being quite. Icanseeyou.  
><strong>

**You spending your time on this little story makes me feel worthy 33 **

**Seriously, thank you.  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**I'm not Stephenie Meyer, I'm Jack's typing fingers.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Later that day, after buying a ton of shit at the grocery store, I tidied up at home, dusting and moving furniture around in a way that I thought might be more comfortable for the girl, before doing laundry and thinking, thinking, thinking.

I was buzzing with anticipation, yet I was overcome with nervousness, which drove me up the wall.

She had asked me how I could possibly welcome someone "like her" into my home, and all I could think was how could I not?

I mean, sure, she wasn't my responsibility; I didn't owe it to her, or to anybody, really, and my home certainly wasn't a motel. But it just seemed like the right thing to do. I didn't put too much thought into it, though. It was easy, effortless for me, to do this for her. Like the furry, meowing mess of a cat that visited me from time to time—he wasn't mine. Hell, it was more like _I _was _his. _

I guess it wasn't all that ethical to compare a person to a cat, but my feelings were comparable, and it didn't hurt that she seemed like a nice person…who happened to be beautiful.

Plus, she seemed trustworthy.

Was I naive? Had I been blinded by her soft voice and deep brown eyes? Was I simply being a fool?

I didn't think so.

Call it an intuition, a gut feeling, a sixth sense, a third eye, it didn't matter. She seemed nice, polite, open, shy, honest, brave, and kind.

I knew I was being a bit reckless, but I was willing to see where this would go.

I was calm about my decision to take her in; it was being in her presence that made me nervous, though I craved her company. How could I feel so much for her when I'd only just met her two days ago?

A loud knock on the front door brought me back to the present, and to the top of the bookcase I was currently wiping.

"Yo, Cullen! Open up, it's us!" Emmett hollered.

"It's open, come on in!" I yelled back, continuing with my dusting.

"Hey, we just came to see if—whoa, there!" Emmett froze in the entryway of the living room, which caused his son, who was following behind him, to bump into his leg. "What the hell…met is happening here?"

"Nice save." I chuckled and got down from the stepladder. "Hey, Ade, how's it going?" I held my fist out to Emmett's son, and he bumped it with his own tiny one.

"Hi, Edward! Wanna come play ball with us?" Aidan's eyes shone with excitement, and I couldn't possibly deny him. It wasn't really often that he got to hang out with his dad like this, and it had been forever since we'd all gone out together.

"Sure, why not! Let me just put all these away." I motioned to all the various cleaning products scattered around the room.

"Ed," Emmett said, quietly looking around, "is the queen coming to visit?" He made a show of smoothing out his rumpled shirt and tucking it into his pants. "I don't think I'm quite ready. Can you lend me a tux?" he whispered anxiously.

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head.

"Sorry, no. I rented mine out, and it was the last one."

"Seriously, dude, what the f…uckus?" His eyes widened, and he threw a quick glance toward his son, who was messing around with my piano and wouldn't have heard his father anyway. "Hey, it's not so hard after all!"

"Whatever happened to the cussing-is-no-big-deal thing?"

"Oh, uh..." Emmett looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. "Rose and I kind of had a talk last night, so I thought I should lay off. Just a bit." He pointed a finger at me, as if to prevent my judgment.

"Oh, that's cool. I like to see you squirm. You should look up more words that start with F-U and S-H, just in case. Why the sudden change, though? I thought Rose gave up on the subject."

"Yeah, not after hearing her baby boy swearing in front of her mother..."

"He didn't!" We moved to the kitchen, and I threw the last of the items in a cupboard under the sink before turning to a bashful looking Em.

"Well, he's my son, after all. I guess it was going to happen at some point."

"What did he say to her?"

"Well, Rose's mom stopped by yesterday, and she started tickling him when he ran out to the hall to greet her. You know how ticklish he can be…anyway, he started thrashing around, and he knocked Rose's floor vase over—you know, the huge ugly one?—and it fell down with this really loud bang. We all froze, waiting for it to break. When it didn't, and everyone was about to relax, my little man says loud and clear," he looked behind him to make sure his son hadn't followed us, "WELL, SHIT!"

I barked out a laugh and bent over, clutching the counter with one hand and my side with the other, howling with laughter.

"I have no regrets, though. It made my day! Heck, it made my week! My month, even!"

"Oh, I can't even imagine Rose's reaction," I said, breathless and still chuckling. "And her mother! You poor, poor man. How did Rose punish you?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Hale was—to put it mildly—_mortified._ The old stiff hag, God bless her cold heart." Emmett chuckled and rubbed his eyebrow with a look of contentment on his face. "As to Rose's punishment...eh, it's not like she can go without it easily. Women who postpone sex are a myth, so don't you worry, Eddie." He winked at me, and I vomited a little in my mouth.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I rolled my eyes at him and walked back to the living room.

"Seriously, though, what's up with the big spring cleaning? Aren't you a little late…" he made a show of looking at his wristwatch, "like six months late?"

"Hardy-har, Emmett. No, I…" For some reason I didn't want to reveal the real reason for my cleaning, so I came up with the lame, "I just felt like cleaning. You know me."

That he did, and thankfully he didn't ask any more questions about it—until later, when he figured it all out.

"Wait a minute!" he suddenly said while Aidan and I were throwing a ball to each other in my backyard. "This girl you found... she'll be staying with you, won't she?"

I instantly tensed and nodded cautiously.

A huge smile broke out on his face, and he looked at me mischievously. "Ooooh, I see now. Anxious, are we?"

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know…maybe because you were acting like a mad woman in there, polishing every damn surface?"

"I was _not_!" When he raised an eyebrow at me, I added, "Okay, I was, but it has nothing to do with her, okay? I just..." I lowered my gaze to the ground, searching for a legitimate answer, when the ball came crashing into my chest. "Ow! Mother f…antastic throw you have there, Ade!" I called over while he giggled away along with his man-child father.

"Ed, my friend," Emmett managed to say between chuckles, "you're in trouble."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked a bit harshly, because, Jesus fuck, Ade _did _have a good throw and my chest now hurt like a bitch. Frankly, I was tired of all this hiding-my-feelings-because-I-didn't-know-what-they-were business.

"Nothing…it just seems to me you've taken a liking to this Bambi-girl." Emmett smirked, but I could hear the seriousness behind the mirth.

_Fuck it, _I thought, and threw the ball back at Aidan.

"Is it a bad thing?" I asked quietly, dreading his answer.

Emmett frowned and looked at me intently. "Dude, chill, why in the world would it be a bad thing?"

"Well, for starters, she has no memory. She's a mess. She's been through some shady shit. She has a long road of recovery ahead of her, and once she does recover, she'll move away, to wherever she came from."

"Ugh, you're always such a pessimist. So what? Do you plan on violating her in any way?"

"No! What the—"

"Do you plan on kidnapping her?"

"Seriously, wh—"

"Do you plan on jumping her the first night she's here?"

"Em!"

"Ed! Stop over thinking everything. Just...live day by day, okay? For all you know, she's a horrible person, a snorer, and a cat hater. Don't get ahead of yourself. Live in the moment, and all that sh…shmit."

I chuckled, "Shmit?"

"Why not!" He smiled and looked up at the sky. "We could start a new trend. It'd be easier, too. Shit, shmit. Fuck, shmuck. Hell, shmell."

"That sounds like bumblebee in Russian," I blurted out randomly.

He looked at me strangely and muttered, "The amount of shmit you know, seriously…"

I shrugged. "Must've heard it somewhere."

And just like that the subject was closed, and some of my tension had floated away.

Come to think of it, I wasn't breaking any rules or laws. I wasn't crossing any boundaries. _Yet. _I wasn't planning on attacking "Bambi-girl". I wasn't planning on pushing her into something she wasn't ready for. I wasn't planning anything! I just wanted to help her…and possibly get to know her better. I wanted to help herlearn things about herself. I mean, I had helped her to remember her favorite color, hadn't I? I felt like we both could gain something from this whole ordeal. I just needed to keep things in check.

The following two days flew by in a blur of cleaning, laundry, cleaning, buying more groceries and house necessities, a comforter (two, actually), and other essentials. I suppose I might have gone a little bit overboard, but hey, it was all stuff that would be staying in the house no matter what, so I considered it an investment in my future life. In case I _might _decide to make my house a motel. _Right_.

I called my dad just before work on Monday, asking him if they'd be releasing her for sure the next day, but he said they needed to run more tests, so she'd probably be released on Wednesday instead. I was a little surprised by the disappointment I felt. Not by the actual feeling, because I gave up on denying the fact that I liked the girl, but by the depth of it. I _really _wanted to spend more time with her, getting to know her, helping her.

On Tuesday I visited mom at the bakery, and she casually asked me if the girl had any clothes in her possession. I hadn't even thought of that! It was already October, so she'd definitely be needing warm clothes. Sweaters, long sleeved t-shirts, pants, socks...bras and pan—

I hastily shoved these thoughts back into my very conscious subconscious and all but demanded Mom to help me out with this particular...task.

She suggested donating some of her own wardrobe, and I agreed thinking that Bambi-girl didn't seem like the kind of person who'd feel comfortable with someone spending money on her clothes. She didn't have to know that I'd already spent quite a sum on all my other "investments".

We agreed, though, that Mom would buy her some undergarments and toiletries. Not that I was scared of tampons or anything; it just seemed more logical that another woman buy those items instead.

Later that night I lay in bed anticipating the morning to come. I couldn't sleep because I was so wound up. What if this was all a mistake? What if it ended up in disaster? Eventually she would regain her memory and move on with her life. And what then? I didn't deny my selfishness when I thought about how I didn't want her to move on...at least not yet. Not before I figured things out. Not before I figured her out, and myself.

Em was right. I should quit worrying so much. For now, I was just going to do everything I could to help her out. The rest would just be a game of wait and see.

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><p>.<p>

**Thanks for still being there. I promise to be better with answering reviews, because they're worth it.**

**Tina almost re-wrote this chapter. I can't thank her enough.**

**The visions are up on polyvore - jacknorton . polyvore . com**


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm not Stephenie Meyer, I'm Jack's improving English.**

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

On Wednesday morning, bright and early, I drove to the hospital in a frighteningly good mood. I actually would've whistled if I could. It was strange because I'm rarely in a good mood and I'd slept for shit last night. I parked, grabbed a plastic bag from the back seat, and headed inside.

"Hey, Ms. C., I'm going up to Carlisle." I waved at Sue, the head nurse, and was about to turn to the elevators when she stopped me, somewhat bewildered.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?" I turned and walked back a few steps, thinking that maybe my father wasn't there and she wouldn't let me up.

"You okay?" she asked, eyeing me suspiciously, confusion clear in her voice.

I looked down at myself, checking to see if perhaps I'd forgotten to put my pants on. Nope, wasn't that.

"Uh, yeah, fine. Why?" I ran a hand through my hair nervously and walked all the way to the nurse's station.

"You look different," she said slowly, looking at me intently. "Are you seeing someone?" Her eyes brightened and smile broadened at the question.

I choked out a laugh and shook my head at her. "No, I'm not, Sue." I wish, though… "Why? You want to ask me out?" I leaned in and winked at her.

Her face flushed deep red, and she started to fumble with some papers on her desk.

"Aw, you little charmer. Of course I'm not. You just never smile these days, but today you look so happy, like you got laid last night." She whispered the last part, and I couldn't help but laugh loudly.

"Ms. Clearwater, what's that I hear?"

"Shush, you!" She stood up quickly and looked around, straightening her coat. "Why else would a man be happy all of a sudden? He's either got a date or been laid. Simple."

"You, Ms. Head Nurse, have lost all your marbles," I said jokingly, and she reddened some more. "Maybe I just like the weather today."

She rolled her eyes at me and frowned, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips, "I may be old, but I know what makes men happy." She pointed her pencil at me. "And it's not weather."

I threw my hands up in surrender and raised my eyebrows.

"Lay off, judging pencil woman! Can't a man be happy for a day? I promise you, I'll be plenty grumpy tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at me but put her pencil in her coat pocket. "You won't fool me, Edward Cullen."

"I wouldn't dare," I said seriously and nodded.

"Your father's in his office."

I bowed my head when she walked away, muttering something about dorks and flying pigs.

She was a strange woman. And I loved that about her. She was like an aunt to me. She'd been working at this hospital her whole life, and we'd bonded over the years, during my frequent visits as a patient in my teens, as a guest when I visited home from college, and after that when I returned back to Forks.

Once on the second floor I decided to go to the girl's room first, but when I walked to her door and knocked lightly there was no answer. Thinking that maybe she was sleeping, I opened the door a little and peeked inside. The room was quiet and the bed was empty, though rumpled.

I looked around and placed the bag on her bed. Maybe she was doing some last minute check-ups? I shrugged and walked out, heading to my father's office.

I knocked lightly on his door and opened it, not waiting for answer.

"I thought it was you, Edward, come on in," said my father, pointing to a chair by the wall_. She _wasoccupying the chair in front of his desk.

She turned back and smiled at me timidly.

"Hey," she said softly, looking me up and down, making me nervous for some reason.

"Hi," I greeted her quietly as I made my way to the chair, taking an opportunity to look at her once she turned away. She was wearing light green scrubs, and her right hand was in a dark blue sling. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing the milky light flesh of her neck. My eyes dipped to her prominent collarbones and I frowned at how skinny she really was.

"We were just discussing, uh…" Dad looked at the girl uncomfortably, trying to think of a way to address her. Finally he chuckled and shook his head lightly. "Heck, we've got a more pressing issue here."

She looked down and smiled lightly, but I could see the crease between her eyebrows.

"You can call me that, you know. I don't mind," she said quietly, looking at him from under her lashes.

"Oh, really? It'll be easier this way, thank you." He shifted in his chair and righted some papers that lay before him on his desk. "So, like I said, we were just discussing Miss Brown Eyes' condition."

Brown Eyes? I looked at her, curious, and she abruptly looked down again and started to pick on her sling with her good hand.

"Everything looks fine to me," my dad said, looking at the sheet of paper in his binder, "except for the obvious. But we'll deal with it, don't worry." They looked each other in the eyes as if having a silent conversation, and finally she nodded lightly and bit her lip. "Edward, I get it you're here to pick up our patient?" My dad then looked at me and stood up.

"Yes, sir." I couldn't help but smile. I looked at the girl again, but she stubbornly stared at that stupid sling.

"Great!" He clapped his hands once, walked around his desk and extended his left hand to the girl. "Good luck, Miss. I'll see you Friday. Take care." He smiled warmly at her, and she awarded him with a smile of her own.

I got up and followed her out and was about to close the door behind me when my father called me back.

"I'll be right out, so just go to your room, okay?" I asked her, and she nodded, walking away, when I suddenly remembered something. "Oh! By the way," she stopped and looked at me questioningly, "uh, there's a bag on your bed… I just thought, since you didn't have any clothes, I, uh, I brought some things. It's just some sweats and a tee, so if you wanted to change…just in case, you know?"

She smiled, and it was like a magnet to my eyes. "Thank you, Edward. I'll be in my room, okay?" She pointed back with her thumb and raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. Right. I'll be right there."

I watched her go for a few seconds and then walked back into the office. Dad was sitting behind his desk again and writing something down.

"Since she'll be staying with you, I think you should know about her condition—with her permission, of course." He put his pen down and straightened, looking at me. "She is stable, nothing endangering her life. However, she has a fractured rib, and her arm will be sore for another week, so she needs plenty of rest and should move as little as possible. She'll need to change the bandages on her ribs, and she has therapy sessions twice a week, covered by hospital funds, so I wanted to ask you if you could drive her here and then—"

"Yeah, no problem," I cut in, waving my hand like it wasn't a big deal. And it really wasn't.

"Okay, good. Well, that's all I think…" He looked at the paper briefly and then back at me. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, Dad. Thanks."

She was wearing my old grey sweats and a hoodie when I got back to her room. She was sitting on her bed and braiding her hair, and I couldn't deny the feelings that were swelling inside my chest. Something warm and nice… Something strong yet gentle.

"Ready to go?" I asked. She started and then rolled her eyes, as if annoyed. "Didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. I'm just so skittish. Every little noise makes me jump."

We walked out of her room, chuckling awkwardly, and made our way down to the parking lot. I tried to ignore Sue's raised eyebrows but couldn't suppress the smile it caused.

The ride to my house was relatively quiet, but not uncomfortable. She stared out the window the whole time, randomly asking me questions about some of the buildings we passed.

Once home, I gave her a tour and showed her the guest room that was now hers.

"And this room's yours. My mom helped me buy some things for you, like, uh, shampoo and such… It's all in the bathroom." I pointed to the open door on the left.

"Oh, Edward, you shouldn't have—"

"I'll just stop you right there, okay?" She looked at me, confused, and I smiled at her. "Look, I know that I didn't have to, but I did. It's not a big deal, really. Just…let's get past this awkward stage and just… _be_. What do you think, Bambi?"

She blushed bright red but didn't look away.

"Okay." Her smile was wide, and I had to shove my hands in my pockets to restrain myself from reaching out and stroking her cheek.

She bit her lip to hide her smile and looked around the room. I cleared my throat and pointed to a dresser near the bathroom door.

"There're some things in there, clothes and…other stuff. I actually don't know." I chuckled and ran a hand through my hair. "Like I said, my mom helped me with it. She mentioned that she had a lot of old clothes, so maybe it's full of it." I took a deep breath to stop my rambling and looked at her again, "Anyway. It's all yours. Make yourself at home. Please?" _Please._

Her eyes grew wide, serious. "Thank you, Edward. So much."

I nodded, unable to break eye contact. I think neither of us blinked as we stood there in complete silence. I was overwhelmed with the need to touch her, so I reached out tentatively and took her by the hand. It was so small compared to my own, so soft and fragile. I squeezed it and reluctantly let go, following the movement with my eyes.

"My room's across the hall. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. I mean it." I pointed a finger at her, and she smiled gently.

"I will. Thank you."

"Okay. Uh, I'm leaving for work in a few hours. Will you be fine? I mean, I could ask my mom—"

Her eyes widened dramatically and she shook her head quickly, "No, no, I'll be fine! I mean… Do you have locks on all the doors?" She tried not to frown, but I saw the worry deep in her eyes.

"Hey, you're safe. That fu—that man's dead. And I'll just be two minutes away. There's a phone downstairs, so you can call me if anything's wrong. And yes, there are locks on the doors. Bolts too."

She relaxed a little and took a deep breath.

"Right. I'll be fine. It's just this irrational fear." She rolled her eyes and waved her hand.

"Okay. I'll be downstairs or in my room. If you need me…" I raised my eyebrows and caught her eyes.

"I'll ask." She nodded and twisted her mouth at the corner. So cute.

I grinned and walked to my room, closing her door softly behind me.

I face-planted on my bed and passed out almost instantly with a smile on my face.

It was a slow night at the bar. It was almost empty save for a few patrons.

I polished glasses and dusted some liquor bottles when I heard a bar stool scraping across the wooden floor. I faced the counter, ready to greet a new customer, but the words got stuck in my throat.

"Hey, Edward!" Alice waved at me enthusiastically. _Drunkenly. _"Can I have a glass of wine, pleeeeease?" she slurred, pouting her lips.

"Hey… Alice. You sure?" I eyed her warily, already forming a plan to get her home.

She scoffed. "Sure! C'mon…" She swayed and almost fell off the stool, but I caught her by the hand and straightened her.

"Oops," she murmured. "Sorry. I'm a little woozy."

"I can see that… Hey, Ali, where's Jasper?" I asked slowly.

"I don't know." She shrugged, looking indifferent. "I don't care. He doesn't either." She looked down at the counter and frowned.

I placed a glass of water in front of her. "Drink."

"That's not wine…" she said slowly and giggled. "Edward, you're losing it."

"Just drink it, all right? I'll be right back."

"Well, bring me my wine!" she yelled at me when I walked away to the stock room.

I closed the door and dialed Jasper's number.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse and…dull.

"Hey, Jazz. Listen, uh…Alice's at the bar right now and she's drunk out of her mind, man. Why don't you come pick her up?"

"At your bar? Drunk? Is she alone?" He didn't sound too worried.

"Yeah, she just came in, and she can barely stand on her own."

"Oh. Okay. Uh, I'll just…I'll be right there. Thanks." He hung up, not waiting for my answer, and I looked at my phone, confused. He didn't sound like he was in a rush either.

I shrugged and opened the door. Jasper was always good at controlling his emotions.

I came to the bar only to find Alice in tears.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong!" I took her by the hand and gave her a squeeze.

She shook her head and hiccupped, squeezing my hand back.

"You called him?" she croaked with a sniff.

"Yeah. He'll be right here."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Figures."

"Alice." I waited for her to look at me and said, "I'm here, always, if you need to talk or anything. Just remember that, all right?"

Her eyes were so big, so bright, and so full of tears, I couldn't take it anymore. I walked around the counter and hugged her tightly.

"I just want us to be okay," she mumbled brokenly into my chest. "I just want us back, Edward." I squeezed her gently and shushed her as she sobbed quietly into my t-shirt.

Jasper came in not ten minutes later, and I could see him crumbling before my eyes when he saw Alice. He had tears in his eyes and looked like hell. His hair was all over the place, his sweater was creased, and there were deep shadows under his eyes.

"Hey, honey, I'm here. Let's take you home." He pried her away from me and offered to carry her, but she shook her head, wiping her nose on a sleeve and walking out on her own, stumbling just once.

"Thanks, man," Jasper said, not looking me in the eyes.

"It's okay. Just… talk to her, Jazz."

He shrugged and walked away, not saying another word.

I hated feeling so helpless, but there was nothing I could do. They needed to sort it out by themselves, after all. They both were hurting, but they both were each other's salvation.

I sighed heavily and walked around the counter, continuing with my boring chore.

Sometimes simply being together wasn't enough. I knew that all too well. I just hoped Jasper and Alice would fight their way through this bad spell. Together.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**"To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible." ****St. Thomas Aquinas**

**Next chapter - next Tuesday. Or maybe this weekend.**

**Take care.**


	9. Chapter 8

**I'm not Stephenie Meyer, I'm Jack's fuzzy feelings.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

I was on my second cigarette on my 5-minute walk home, exhausted both physically and  
>mentally even though I hadn't done much tonight.<p>

I thought about Jasper and Alice, about how I might help them, but nothing came to mind.  
>It really was in their hands. Only they could fix their relationship. I supposed I could talk<br>to Jasper, to see what his problem was, if he even had one. Sometimes talking it out to a  
>third party helped. It was obvious that he still cared for Alice, that he still loved her. His<br>worried expression and sad, sorrowful his eyes were clear indicators that there was still  
>hope for them. And it gave me hope that not all was lost for them.<p>

I walked out of the woods to the clearing where my house stood. The kitchen windows  
>were lit up with a soft yellow glow, and for a second I was confused and tried to remember<br>if I'd forgotten to switch the lights off. But then I remembered that I didn't live alone  
>anymore. A smile tugged at my lips and a warm feeling spread in my chest. I tried to<br>suppress all of it because it wasn't like I was in a relationship with the girl, and she wasn't  
>staying here on vacation. Our situation was far from ideal or even normal, but I couldn't<br>help but feel contentment and happiness while looking at my house. For the first time  
>since building it, it looked like <em>home<em>.

I walked to the door and threw the cigarette butts in the trashcan on the porch. Out of  
>curiosity I tried the door knob. Locked. I smiled and pulled out the keys.<p>

I could smell something delicious as I walked into the kitchen, and then there she was.  
><em>Bambi.<em>

She heaved a sigh, as if in relief, and blushed a little, rolling her eyes.

"Hey." She smiled widely and waved a spatula in greeting. "You scared me," she added  
>before grumbling, "It's not like I get scared easily."<p>

"Why are you still up?" I made my way over to her by the stove and leaned on the  
>counter. "It smells fucking divine in here. What are you cooking?"<p>

Her eyes shone with excitement. "It's just a chicken with noodles. I thought I would try  
>something simple first, but there were all these ingredients…" She stirred the noodles in<br>the pot and suddenly looked at me worriedly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth  
>and instantly drawing my attention to it. "I hope, you don't mind. Your fridge is full with<br>uncooked food and I thought—"

"Hey, hey, it's okay." She smiled tentatively and I smiled back. "It's great, actually. I'm  
>starving, to be honest."<p>

Her smile then widened and her whole face lit up.

"Then go set the table," she said playfully.

I eyed her for a moment when she turned to the stove again.

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly.

"Mmm? Yes, why?" She answered distractedly, checking the time on the stove.

When I didn't answer, she turned to me and frowned.

"What?"

"I don't…know, actually. It's just…may I be honest?"

"Of course." Her frown deepened and she turned to me fully.

"You look, uh, happy. Not exactly _happy_, but content or something. You look…okay. I  
>just thought… You know what? Forget it. I don't even know what I'm talking about." I<br>made a move to turn away and grab the plates from the cupboard, but she caught my hand,  
>stopping me instantly. She let go of me right away and looked down, twisting her hands<br>nervously.

"I know what you mean. It's…it's odd, I know. Even for me. But somehow I feel all right.  
>I mean, mentally. I feel…<em>safe<em>. It's so weird because it's like there's this black hole in my  
>head right now, but still it…it doesn't scare me. I don't remember anything before James,"<br>she grimaced at his name, and my fists clenched, "so I have nothing to worry about,  
>nothing to grieve about or think about. Maybe I should be more concerned, but what's<br>the point? I need to concentrate on healing and remembering my past, not on mourning  
>something I don't know. Does that make sense?"<p>

Yeah, it actually did. To me, anyway. She seemed like a person who chose to take it day  
>by day, to not waste time on fretting about the future but preparing for it instead.<p>

"Yes, it does," I answered, and she smiled a little and bit her lip, and again my eyes  
>followed the movement hungrily. I wanted to touch her, to cup her cheek and draw her lip<br>out with my thumb, to stroke her milky skin and—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

We both jumped at the sound of the stove's timer going off, and I chuckled and shook my  
>head. Jesus, the effect she has on me…<p>

Her face filled with color and she quickly turned to the stove, busying her shaking hands  
>with noodles.<p>

The dinner was delicious, and I kept moaning and groaning and thanking her with my  
>mouth full, just because it made her giggle.<p>

After we ate, I insisted on cleaning up, shooing her away. Once everything was in order,  
>I decided to go out for a smoke. I grabbed my hoodie since it was a little cold out, and<p>

walked to the back porch. I lit up and inhaled deeply, staring into the clear night sky. It  
>wasn't often you could see the stars in Forks this time of year. It was eerily dark and quiet,<br>the only light coming from the half full moon and my cigarette.

"How long have you been smoking?" a voice sounded to my left, and I almost dropped the  
>cigarette. I inhaled the smoke harshly and started to cough violently, bending down and<br>grasping at my knees.

The rocking chair on my left creaked then, and I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you, I'm so sorry!" She started to pat  
>and rub my back gently as I wheezed pathetically.<p>

"It's okay, I'm okay," I forced out, feeling tears burning my eyes. I dragged in a shattering  
>breath and straightened up slowly. Her hands slid to my forearm, and I could see her face<br>in the moonlight, so close to mine. She was gazing worriedly into my eyes. I smiled,  
>grabbed her hand, and squeezed it a little before letting go.<p>

"It's okay. I didn't hear you, is all. Are you tired?"

She shrugged and wrapped the hoodie–my hoodie–more tightly around her slight body.

"I don't want to sleep. And I like it here. Which is odd." She mumbled the last part and  
>sighed.<p>

"Why is that?"

She stared into space and jerked her shoulders vaguely.

"I feel like I should be afraid of the forest," she said quietly. "Like I should be afraid of the  
>dark. But it's nice here. I like it. It's so calm and quiet, and just…peaceful."<p>

She smiled a little, and I couldn't look away from her face. She was just so damn  
>beautiful. The light breeze played with the wisps of her hair, her skin glowed in the<br>moonlight, and her smile looked serene. She turned to me, noticing my stare, and searched  
>my eyes, as if trying to find an explanation to my ogling her there. Her smile turned into a<br>sweet little smirk and she scrunched her nose.

"So how long have you been a smoker?"

"Oh." I snapped out of my stupor and automatically drew my hand with the cigarette  
>farther away from her. "I'm sorry, does it bother you?"<p>

"Well, it doesn't smell like candy." She grimaced a little and then shook her head. "But  
>no, it doesn't bother me. I mean, unless it's in my face." She shot me a mock glare and I<br>saluted her.

"Got it." I leaned into the railing, took a drag, and exhaled, blowing the smoke away from  
>her. "And to answer your question, it's been a couple of years now."<p>

"Oh." She leaned against a post and frowned. "Why did you start? I mean, I get why kids  
>start smoking in high school, but you were…" She looked at me with questioning eyes,<br>and I nodded.

"I was 27. And I was…in a dark place back then, I guess."

She hummed and looked into the forest.

"So I take it you don't smoke. Never?" I asked teasingly.

"I don't know…maybe," she said thoughtfully. "But now the smell of it is pretty much  
>repulsive." She made a face again and I chuckled as I put out my cigarette.<p>

Just then I heard a rustling in the bushes and smiled.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, alarmed, squinting into the dark and stepping back to the  
>house at the same time.<p>

"Yeah." I chuckled again, but it quickly died in my throat once I saw the real fear in her  
>eyes.<p>

"Hey, hey," I grabbed her hand and rubbed my thumb on her wrist. "Don't worry, Bambi,"  
>I said softly, calming her down a little. "It's just my furry neighbor."<p>

Just then an arrogant meow pierced the still night.

She exhaled loudly then, and a quiet giggle escaped her lips.

I switched on the porch light just in time to see the fucker strutting up the stairs. He made  
>his way over to us and sniffed at the girl's shoes distractedly.<p>

"I'll be right back." I squeezed her hand and hurried into the house to get some cat food.

When I walked back outside, Bambi was crouching down and the bastard was rubbing  
>himself all over her hands and ankles, purring loudly.<p>

"Oh, would you look at that," I grumbled, proceeding to fill his bowls. "Don't get too  
>close to him. He only uses us for food."<p>

"Aw, are you jealous?" Bambi laughed, scratching the cat's ears. "He's so cute, Edward!  
>Is he yours? What's his name?" She seemed way too excited by the damn cat.<p>

"It's more like I'm his. And his name's Red."

This sent Bambi into a fit of giggles, and she almost toppled over. I grabbed her by the  
>arm and pulled her up.<p>

"Edward!" she exclaimed, gasping through her laughter. "But he's grey!" I rolled my eyes  
>at her.<p>

"I know that, Miss Little Giggles." I pinched her side teasingly, and she whelped and  
>jumped away.<p>

"Oooooh, ticklish, are we?" I eyed her evilly and stepped towards her.

"Oh, no, you don't!" She pointed a finger at me, her eyes full of tears from laughter, her  
>face flushed.<p>

"Don't what?" I asked, stepping closer.

"Edward Cullen, I swear, if you—"

But she didn't get to finish the sentence. Instead she shrieked as I lunged at her, batting my  
>hands away like a kitten.<p>

"Edward! Stop it!" She gasped and sucked in a breath, "My rib! My rib!"

"Oh, shit!" I stopped immediately, and if her face hadn't been contorted in pain I would  
>have gone over to the railing and banged my stupid fucking head against it. "Bambi, I'm<br>so sorry! I forgot! Are you okay? Should I call my dad? Is it too bad? I'm calling the  
>hospital—"<p>

"Edward," she gasped out, "it's okay, stop ranting."

"What? You're not okay, though. Christ, I'm so sorry! Come on, let's get in the car." I  
>started to lead her towards the door, but she stopped me and straightened slowly.<p>

"Edward. It's fine, really." When I opened my mouth to object, she quickly shut it with her  
>hand. "Yes, it hurts, but that's normal, isn't it?"<p>

My eyes were drawn to her little hand covering her side, and I slowly put my hand over  
>hers.<p>

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled again.

"You should be." She smirked and grabbed on my free forearm.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yes, stop fawning. I just need a minute." Slowly she sucked in a breath and started to  
>straighten.<p>

"I don't_ fawn_," I grumbled, and she chuckled but stopped right away, clutching at her side  
>tightly.<p>

I bit my lips and suppressed the urge to bang my head against the wall again, since it was  
>closer to me than the railing was now.<p>

"Okay. I think I can move now, so don't you try to apologize again. I will not hesitate to  
>slap you," she warned me. I would've laughed at her if I didn't feel so damn guilty.<p>

"Let's get you to your room," I suggested, and she nodded.

I helped her up the stairs and to her bed. She sat down gingerly and smiled at me tiredly.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "Can you get me my pills? They're on the vanity in the  
>bathroom." She suddenly sounded very sleepy and weary.<p>

I sprinted to her bathroom and back, carrying a small orange bottle. I waited until she  
>washed down a pill, paying close attention to the way her lips wrapped around the lower<br>rim of the glass.

"Thank you," she said again, breathlessly, before lying down slowly.

"Are you okay, Bambi?" I asked quietly, bending down a little.

She hummed and snuggled into her pillow. "I will be," she murmured.

I stood there not knowing if I should get her under the covers or just leave her be. After a  
>few seconds of awkward shifting from foot to foot, I grabbed a comforter from the chair<br>by the window and covered her with it.

"Goodnight, B," I whispered, unable to resist stroking her soft hair.

She sighed but didn't answer, already in dream land.

I left her room and closed the door softly, shuffling begrudgingly to my lonely bedroom,  
>to my cold bed.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>What's your pet's name?<strong>

**Don't be a lurker, share your thoughts. Like, do you think it's strange B is so...calm? hmm?  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 9

**I'm not Stephenie Meyer, I'm Jack's sweaty palms (and body, omg).**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

I woke up with a start, sweaty and disoriented. My legs were tangled up in a sheet, and I struggled with it for a few moments, trying to gain control of my limbs and brain. Some noise woke me up, and I tried to figure out what it was or where it had come from. I was still trying to grasp some coherent thought when something banged loudly downstairs. Before I knew it, I was running down the stairs. Without a second thought, I grabbed the bat from the closet under the stairs and padded quietly but quickly to the kitchen, where the commotion was coming from.

I peeked inside and exhaled with relief, as if a balloon were deflating air. Bambi was standing on a chair trying to slide a pan out from the top cupboard from a shit ton of other pans that were piled in there. The mountain of pans and pots was rattling with her futile attempts to fight them off.

"Need a little help?" I asked with humor.

She yelped and almost fell off the chair, but she grabbed onto the cupboard doors in time. I rushed to her side, dropping the bat along the way, and steadied her with one hand on the back of the chair and my other hand on her waist.

"Careful," I muttered, grabbing her hand and easing her down.

"You scared me," she said breathlessly. She looked pale and shaken; her hand still engulfed in mine felt clammy.

"Are you okay?" I bent my knees a little so I could catch her eyes with mine, but she avoided my gaze.

"Yes, you just scared me." Her voice sounded shaky as well.

Without another thought, I tugged her close to me and hugged her tentatively, gently. She buried her nose in my shirt and inhaled deeply, probably to calm herself. Her little hands came around me and grasped at the soft cotton on my back.

"I'm sorry," I muttered into her hair, taking a deep breath myself and basking in the smell and feel of her soft femininity. "I thought someone broke in." I chuckled to myself and rubbed her shoulder. "I think I was still asleep when I sprinted down the stairs."

A small giggle escaped her, and she sniffed and moved away from me, dragging her hands agonizingly slow across my back and waist to my ribs.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she said with an apologetic smile, her brows creased with traces of guilt.

"I'm sorry I scared you—again," I said, rolling my eyes. "So, you needed a pan, right?"

Her lips twitched and she nodded.

"And you decided the one on the bottom is the best one for…" I started to unload the pans from of the cupboard, glancing at her from under my arm.

"Pancakes." She nodded and smiled brightly at me, triggering my own smile. "It's the largest."

"And you like 'em big, eh?" The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to filter them, and I wanted to bang my head on the counter from the stupidity and immaturity of my question. It seemed like I wanted to bang my head against a lot of things these days… Her silence made it even worse, and I turned to her so I could apologize for my big mouth when I saw her frozen in place, staring into space with wide eyes. I didn't get a chance to say anything else because she turned to me slowly, her eyes full of wonder.

"I do."

I almost choked on my tongue. I was scared to ask what she meant, because clearly she'd just remembered something and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Or did I? She stopped my inner ramblings by saying, "I had a big pan for pancakes. I… I cooked them…" She frowned then, her eyes squinting with concentration. "I cooked them in the mornings… At least I think I did." She looked around, lost in her memories.

"What kind were they?" I asked, to help her prolong the memory.

Her frown deepened, and she lifted her hand to rub gently on her bottom lip with her slender fingers.

"I think… I think they were mostly st—" She halted at the word and cleared her throat. "Strawberry," she clarified with conviction. "They were strawberry pancakes," she whispered, looking at me. I was shocked to find her eyes swimming with tears. She looked troubled, confused…_hurt_. "Edward," she forced out, as if looking for support, for answers to the questions I couldn't really help her with.

I scooped her in my arms again and crushed her to my chest as she started to sob loudly…brokenly. The sound of her cries rocked me to the core; I was overwhelmed by the need to take it all away from her, to make it better, and I was crippled by the complete inability to do something, anything. So I just hugged her closer, tighter, and shushed her the best I could, rocking her from side to side, not knowing who exactly I was trying to calm down—her or myself.

I lost track of time as we stood there, bathing in the warm morning sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows.

Finally her sobs quieted down and her sobs were replaced by sniffles and shallow breaths. I stroked her soft hair and gently asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, sniffed one last time, and slowly backed out of my embrace. I put my fingers under her chin and tipped her face up so I could look into her bloodshot brown eyes.

"What was that?" I whispered cautiously, not entirely sure if this question was a good idea.

Her lip started to tremble again, but she snapped her mouth shut and pursed her lips, looking away from me.

"I don't know," she answered me just as quietly. "I guess I miss it." She looked at me then, her eyes filling with tears again. "I miss my life, Edward," she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking, and she stepped into my arms again, sighing and weeping softly.

I rubbed her back and continued to tell her that everything was going to be all right, that her memories would come back to her, that she would go back to a normal life. My own voice cracked a little at this.

-x-x-x-

In the end, we decided to forgo pancakes and make good ol' eggs and bacon instead. We worked side by side, silently or with the occasional small talk here and there, which wasn't forced or awkward in the slightest. We cooked, ate, and cleaned together, and I made sure to be as discreet as possible when I went behind her and straightened the dish towel she'd left on the counter and put the forks in another section of the drain board. What? I just liked everything in its place.

I was out on the back porch smoking when she came outside wearing jeans, sneakers, and my black hoodie that I'd left in the dresser in her room. She hugged herself as she looked around and made her way to me slowly.

"Hey," she said quietly, leaning on the post next to the one I was leaning on.

"Hey." She looked so small in my hoodie, so fragile and precious. How could anything bad happen to her? How could anyone do her any harm? And why? I didn't fucking get it. Once again I was glad that fucker was dead and wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again. "Are you okay?" I asked her, stuffing my free hand deep into my pocket so as to avoid the temptation to lift it up to her face and stroke the crease between her eyebrows  
>on her sad face.<p>

She nodded and looked down, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"I, uh, wanted to ask you something," she said somewhat nervously, twisting the cuff of the hoodie on the arm that was in a sling. "Iwannatakeawalk," she blurted out before heaving a sigh and looking at me cautiously.

I chuckled and put out my cigarette. I didn't want to bother her with the smoke.

"Sorry, Bambi, what was that?"

She hugged herself again and repeated herself more slowly, though she was still nervous.

"I sort of want to go for a walk." I frowned, and she quickly added, "I mean, with you…if you're not busy. Are you?" Her desperate eyes turned hopeful, and I couldn't help but chuckle again. She was just so damned cute.

"No, I'm not." I smiled at her, and she smiled back timidly. "Are you sure, though?"

The vulnerability vanished from her eyes, replaced by a look of determination and certainty.

"I am. I miss going outside. I don't think I've been on a walk in months…" She looked into the woods absentmindedly and sighed. "I'm just not sure that I can, you know? Go alone, I mean," she added quietly, looking at me from under her lashes.

"Well, let's go, then!" I offered her my hand and her whole face brightened, a wide smile gracing her pouty lips.

"Really?" She breathed out hard, her eyes shining with happiness.

I laughed and shook my head at her.

"Damn, Bambi, it's just a walk. Sure, come on!"

She grasped my hand in hers and looked at me somberly, though she was still smiling,

"It's not just a walk, Edward. Not for me."

-X-X-X-X-

We spent almost the whole day outside, enjoying the rare sunshine and warmth. At first we just strolled around, talking and joking and teasing, and then I offered visiting my mom's bakery. Bambi got so fucking excited at that idea that I suggested she forego any caffeine or sugar products in the near future. Yeah, my shoulder still smarted from that one. The girl had a mean left hook.

Not surprisingly at all, my mom loved Bambi, and I think the feeling was mutual. I stayed at our table when my mom whisked Bambi away to show her around, and when they came back (ten fucking minutes later, I might add! Why did it take so long? The place was microscopic!), they were giggling like schoolgirls. My mom fawned over us and acted like it was a national holiday or something, which hurt a little, to be honest, because she was never like this when I ever came around.

She fed us a number of her specialties, as well as some new recipes she was trying out, and I felt like I was going to burst if I looked at another pastry or cupcake. Bambi, on the other hand, looked light as a butterfly and bubbly as a kid at Disney Land.

Finally I managed to get her out of there, bribing her with ice cream, but not before my mom loaded us with several types of bread and a new cocoa recipe.

We strolled around town, talking about this and that, though I was the one who did most of the talking, telling her embarrassing stories from my childhood and teen years because it made her giggle and I loved the sound of it.

Overall the day was perfect. Bambi was smiling non-stop, soaking in the sunshine and her newfound freedom. She looked so happy and carefree and just fucking beautiful that I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Sometimes something would remind us of why we were here, and we found ourselves immersed in a compatible silence, not exactly morose but sobering.

We discovered some new things about Bambi, too, like how she doesn't like sweet things (I know right!) but loves ice cream. She was pretty sure she knew how to bake, and she wanted to try her hand at it, at which point I suggested her to attempt it at the fire station. I earned a bruise on my side for that remark when she pinched me. She hated insects and screamed bloody murder when something with too many legs got too close to her. She was okay with butterflies and lady bugs, though. She was clumsy, she was sweet and caring, and she was also playful and smart.

We came home at twilight, ate pizza that we picked up on our way, cleaned, smoked—well, I did—drank cocoa that she made, which might've been even better than my mom's, while we gazed at the stars on the back porch.

I noticed that she became drowsy almost right after she took her pills. We were still sitting in the rocking chairs outside when her answers and questions grew more quiet and far between, but I didn't rush her to bed, enjoying her company and mere presence.

I don't know for how long we sat there in silence, but when I turned to her to say something, she was fast asleep. I don't know how it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful like this. Her face was peaceful and calm, her pale skin contrasting with her dark brown hair, her cheeks pink as they were kissed by the cold night breeze, her full lips slightly pouted and so soft… Every little detail was perfect in itself, but together they drew a gorgeous picture. And the little snore that escaped her at every exhalation only diluted her unearthly beauty with its childish adorableness.

I stood up, stretched, and picked her up gently, not wanting to wake her and longing to hold her in my arms again. She was so small, so light and soft, that I could easily confuse her with being a child if not for the intense feelings that I felt for her already. She stirred a little and I shushed her quietly, lowering my lips to her hair. Slowly I made my way to her room and placed her on the bed, covering her with a comforter. I stroked her hair in a farewell and couldn't help but lean down and kiss her forehead gently.

"Goodnight, Bambi," I whispered for the second time in two days, hoping I would get the chance to say it many more times in the days to come.

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><p><strong>aw. aren't they stinkin' cute? :')<strong>

**I have been a bad bad girl and didn't thank Tina in the last chapters, who's not just a beta. Doll, you rock my socks. Love you and thank you so duking much. Seriously.**

**thank you for reading. share your thoughts, please.**

**PS. are you afraid of insects?**

**(visuals to chapters 8-9 can be found on jacknorton. polyvore. com )  
><strong>


	11. Chapter 10

**I'm Jack's writer's block. Even though Jack is not a writer.**

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

"Edward," someone whispered while tugging at the sheet that covered me. I groaned and maybe even grumbled something but didn't otherwise react. I was still half asleep and didn't have any intensions of waking up any time soon.

"Edward!" The whisper grew insistent, the speaker impatient. Who the fuck was that, and why the hell did they want me to wake up? It was still dark, for God's sake.

"_Edward!_" Funny how they still didn't raise their voice above a whisper. "You need to wake up. I have an appointment, remember?"

I shot up in bed, making myself dizzy. Still not understanding much, I looked around wildly, squinting against the light from the hall. I heard a giggle to my left and whirled my head around, swaying in the process.

"What the…" I rasped out, trying to gather my thoughts. The giggling turned into muffled laughter and gasping.

"Ow, it hurts to laugh. Stop it!" _Bambi. _Yeah, it was her, doubled over my nightstand, clutching her side with her injured arm.

"What's the matter, B? Are you all right? What time is it?" I slurred, swinging my legs off the bed.

"It's eight a.m. and I need to go to the hospital, remember? I have an appointment with a therapist," she whispered as she sat beside me.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Why are _you_?"

I chuckled but looked her in the eye. She frowned and looked down, avoiding my gaze. "I don't know," she said quietly, not whispering anymore. "It's just…I don't know how to explain it. It just feels right." She looked me in the eye then and added teasingly, "Good thing I did, though, 'cause otherwise you would have fallen out of bed."

"And why's that?" I asked her with mock seriousness.

"You should've seen yourself shooting up in bed like it was on fire!" She started to giggle again, and I couldn't help but enjoy both the sound and the view. She was already dressed in jeans and some sort of sweater that was too big on her. I remembered my mom wearing it, like, fifteen years ago. The neckline was wide and hung low, and I could see her collarbones. If she leaned forward just a little…

I turned my head away abruptly when my eyes wandered too low and raked my hand through my hair.

"You have time to shower without rush," she added softly. "I made breakfast." There was a hint of pride in her voice, and I looked at her curiously. "Strawberry pancakes," she explained, smiling really big.

I grinned at her and, unable to resist, reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'll wait downstairs. Get up." She stood up and exited my room, closing the door softly behind her.

x-x-x-x

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, taking her hand and unclasping her fist.

We were sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot. It was raining a little, and it was gloomy and dark.

She nodded distractedly and sighed. "I should go," she said, looking outside.

"Okay. I'll be here in an hour."

She nodded again, squeezed my hand, and got out of the car. I waited for her to go inside and then drove away.

I decided to visit Emmett's to kill time, maybe snoop around about Bambi's case if he was home.

It took me only five minutes to get there, but the rain had picked up considerably during that time and I had to jog to the front door to avoid getting soaked.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door and almost instantly heard the staccato of little feet running and then "Don't open the door, Aidan!" from Rose.

Seconds later, she opened the door and smiled.

"Edward, hey! What's up? Come in!" She let me in and closed the door.

"Hi…oh, are you baking?" I blurted out. The air in the house was thick with the smell of freshly baked goods.

Rosalie laughed and wiped her hands on the black apron she wore.

"You're just as bad as Aid." She shook her head and walked to the kitchen. "Come on, cookies are about ready."

"Edward!" I turned just in time to catch the little kid running full speed toward me. I lifted him up and tossed him in the air, earning a squeal from him.

We walked to the kitchen, and Rose placed a plate of still-warm cookies in front of me. I crammed two into my mouth before I sat down.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Rose asked distractedly, opening the oven and checking on her next batch.

"Do you have cocoa?" I managed to say through a mouthful of crumbs.

"Yes!" Aidan yelled while climbing on the chair beside me. "Can I have one, too, Mom?" He looked at Rose, his eyes open wide and a sweet smile on his face. If I didn't know better, I'd think this kid was an angel.

"Two cocoas coming right up!" said Rose in a very cheerful un-Rose-like voice.

"Why are you not in kindergarten, little man?" I asked Aidan, swallowing my third cookie. Fuck, they were just _perfect_.

"I'm sick!" he answered all proud-like, nibbling on his cookie.

"Oh? You don't look sick to me," I teased him, tickling his side. He giggled and batted my hand away.

"That's because he's all better now," said Rose, placing two cups with cocoa in front of us.

"So how are you?" she asked, taking a seat across from me.

"Good, I guess. Work's good, though I think I need to start looking for someone to hire since Jacob is planning on going away for college. I thought I would—"

"And how are things at home," Rose asked offhandedly, concentrating on picking up crumbs from her cookie.

I furrowed my brow and smirked at her. "Um, things are okay…" I said slowly. "Why?" I mimicked her distracted tone and snatched up another cookie. Was it my fourth? Sixth? Oh, who cared! I wondered if Bambi could bake…

"Well, last I heard, you had a mysterious girl there. And rumor has it," she lowered her voice and lifted her eyebrows, "that she's your long lost girlfriend who got in trouble in Seattle and is hiding here."

I propped my head on my hand and rolled my eyes.

"You gossip too much, woman."

"I hear too much, that's for sure. I mean, I probably won't ever look at Jessica Stanley the same as I did before I heard her…" her eyes flicked to her son, "being really vocal in a janitor's closet during Eric's break."

She waggled her eyebrows and triumphantly bit into her cookie.

I groaned and stood up to rinse my cup in the sink.

"So?" She wasn't backing off.

"So…things are okay." I sighed. What was there to tell? "The girl doesn't remember her name, she's an awesome cook, she's really quiet, and she loves cats. That's about all I know."

"Poor thing. Where is she now?" Rose's eyes were full of compassion, a quick switch from all the teasing and joking around.

"She's at the hospital. They set her up for some therapy to…I don't know, to help her remember stuff and figure out where she is from. And to help the police, I guess, but you should know more about this part since you're an _insider_." I made air quotes around the last word.

"Oh, I'm not…I'm not interested in this stuff," said Rose. "You know, it's his work. It's not something to gossip about."

Instantly I felt embarrassed. "Oh, Rose, I didn't mean to imply —"

She waved me off. Truly, Rose wasn't the gossiping kind. She was an awesome friend who despised rumors as well as anyone indulging in them. Too bad she worked with such people.

"Relax, it's okay. Are you finished, honey?" she asked Aidan.

He nodded, thanked her, and took off from the kitchen.

"More cocoa?" Rose asked, lifting an eyebrow at me as I stuffed another cookie into my mouth.

"Please."

"So, how are Alice and Jasper?" she asked distractedly. I chuckled, realizing gossip wasn't completely off the table.

-x-x-x-

I was waiting for Bambi to come out of the hospital, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and looking at the clock nervously. I felt anxious, so I started to count the seconds to distract myself.

She came out a few minutes (187 seconds, to be exact) later, pale as a ghost and clutching the sleeves of her sweater in her fists. She searched for my car in the parking lot, and once she found it, she slowly made her way over, hugging herself and looking stiff as a board. When she got closer, I noticed her puffy eyes and rosy nose. She looked so sad and broken, but I couldn't deny that she also looked cute, in an I-want-to-scoop-her-up-and-wrap-her-in-a-blanket-and-rock-her-to-sleep way.

I jumped out of the car and jogged over to her, meeting her halfway.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing her arms swiftly but gently.

She nodded and stared numbly at my chest, which was eye-level with her.

I cupped her face and lifted her chin a little, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were so expressive and deep, and yet they seemed dulled by the fear and sadness that ate at her from within.

"Hey," I whispered, stroking her cheek. "It's gonna be all right. Okay? It's gonna be fine." I willed her to believe me with my eyes.

Her bottom lip trembled then, and the warring emotions spilled over, forcing the tears to fall onto her cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart…" I murmured, hugging her close to me. She clung to me, clawing at my t-shirt under my jacket. I rocked us from side to side as she wept quietly. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the wind was harsh and cold. I shielded her with my jacket when she shivered lightly. Soon she relaxed her fists and smoothed the shirt on my back, melting into my body and sighing deeply.

"Let's get you home," I murmured into her hair, and she nodded.

I led her to the passenger's door with my arm around her shoulder and helped her inside.

After about five minutes of heavy but not necessarily uncomfortable silence, I tugged at the edge of her sweater lightly until she looked at me with a faint, sad smile on her face.

"Bambi," I said softly, "I just want you to know that…if you want to talk about anything, just know that I'm always here, okay?"

"I know," she whispered hoarsely.

"But if you don't want to talk, it's okay. I won't hover, I promise. Just…I don't want you to feel like you owe me something."

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, looking at me appraisingly and somewhat suspiciously, though the tender smile that played at the corners of her lips softened her expression.

It startled a chuckle out of me, and I looked at the road, nervously raking my fingers through my hair.

"Am I?" I asked rhetorically.

"So good," she murmured, making me look at her in surprise. Her eyes were droopy and the smile was more prominent.

"Bambi?" I asked, confused. She just hummed, smiling a little more. "Are you okay? Did…did the doctor give something to you?"

"She gave me a pill," she mumbled, closing her eyes and lowering herself in her seat.

That worried me. I didn't want to imagine what had happened in the doctor's office that they'd needed to sedate her.

I snuck glances at her still form during the ride home, but she seemed sound asleep.

I parked at the house and sighed. I so desperately wanted to help her, but there seemed to be nothing I could do. _You gave her a roof and a warm bed, _a little voice in my head reminded me. True, but still, I wanted to do something to relieve her stress. To help her cope. To help her _remember. _And move on? Move away?I didn't like the idea of that, and it confused me.

I stepped out of the car, made my way to the passenger's side, and opened the door. She was curled in a ball like a kitten. I leaned in and gently lifted her up in my arms.

In the door to her bedroom, I hugged her closer to me and inhaled her warm, feminine scent, savoring holding her.

"It's gonna be all right, kitten," I whispered, placing her on the bed.

I covered her with coverlet and kissed her forehead, stroking her soft hair one last time, and then walked out and closed the door with a quiet click.

What was I doing?Better yet, what was I feeling?

I shook my head and pulled my phone from my jeans pocket.

"Hey, Dad," I rasped out once he picked up. I cleared my throat and asked, "Do you have the phone number of her therapist?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for still being here, even if I (this) don't deserve it.<strong>

**Tina is a little fairy that somehow makes my words sound prettier. Like, whoa.**

**Oh, and just a fyi - Charlie is not B's father. Yeah. I'd love to, but that would be a bit Santa Barbara like, don't you think? Trust me, k? xoxo**


	12. Chapter 11

**I'm not SM, I'm Jack's long lost inspiration.**

**PS. This is an unbeta'ed mess, jsyk.**

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><p>Chapter 11<p>

The next Wednesday morning I parked my car in front of the hospital and looked at Bambi. She looked apprehensive and nervous, her knee was bouncing, her lower lip firmly grasped by her teeth. That was understandable, considering the state she was in the last time she left here. This time was different. And I hoped the outcome will be different too.

After I brought her passed out from meds self home on Friday, I called her therapist, Dr. Maggie Brown, and asked her (more like pleaded) to give me some kind of advice on how to help the girl cope and heal and remember. To my surprise she suggested I come with Bambi for her next session. And Bambi surprised me even more by agreeing to it with a shy smile (which left me with a big ass grin of my own).

"Ready?" I asked, grasping her good hand and squeezing it. Her right hand was still a little sore, and she opted to use her sling outside the house, but it was getting better every day.

"Yes," she whispered, squeezed my hand back and with a deep sigh left the car.

I jogged to her side and took her hand again, leading us to the hospital doors.

Inside I waved cheerfully to a gaping Sue and proceeded to the elevators.

Once outside of the Dr. Brown's office, B stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly. I didn't say anything and just stood there, looking at her preparing herself to whatever was waiting her behind the door.

When she opened her eyes, her expression was determined and brave, even though there was some hesitancy lurking in the pools of brown in her eyes and in the wrinkle at the corner of her lip turned downward.

I lifted my eyebrows at her, and she nodded firmly.

I knocked at the door and after a soft 'come in' opened it.

"Hello," I said to a woman who didn't look much older than me. "I am Edward Cullen, we spoke on the phone." I offered her my hand and she surprised me with a firm handshake.

"Of course, Mr. Cullen, nice to meet you." She smiled at me and her grey eyes flashed with curiosity and surprise. "Hey, sweety, how are you today?" She went to B and rubbed her arm gently.

"Hello, and I'm fine, thank you," she answered rather timidly.

"We'll see," said the Doc playfully and sat behind her desk, gesturing for us to sit in front of it. She put her glasses on, folded her arms on the desk and looked at me. "First of all, will it be okay for you to go on the first name basis? I prefer to cut the crap in this office."

Wow, I liked her.

"Sure."

"Okay, so Edward, why did you want to come here with my pretty patient?"

I glanced at B nervously and smiled at her beet red face, which she tried to hide behind her hair by lowering her head. Too late.

"Uhh, like I said on the phone, I want to help. I mean, maybe there are some tips on how to trigger memories or something, you know? Since we are living together and spend so much time with each other, I thought I might be useful and do something." I shrugged and looked at the Doc expectantly, but was surprised when B started speaking.

"Edward, but you _are_ doing something. You already did so much for me, I will never be–"

"B, please, stop it." I interrupted her with a pleading voice, even though I wanted it to sound more firm. "I know, it's a big deal for you, but it's not for me. I want you to get better. To feel better. And I feel like I can do more than just to offer you a shelter. I want you to feel fine. Truly fine and not just warm and dry and full. Let me do something."

She pursed her lips worriedly and nodded, looking into my eyes. I smiled a little and took her hand, turning my eyes to the Doc, who watched us with a little sly smile on her thin lips.

"So, like I said. I want to help. Any way I can."

"This is very noble of you, Edward."

"Oh, please, not you too," I muttered and ran my hand through my hair. I started to get agitated and I really didn't want to. Didn't they understand that giving the girl a roof above her head was not some kind of grand gesture to me? I lived alone and I had this huge ass useless house, why not to share it with a girl who was in a desperate need? See? Simple.

The Doc smirked and nodded at me.

"Just tell me what I can do," I mumbled, rubbing B's thumb fussily with my fingers.

"Very well." Dr. Brown – _Maggie _– straightened her back and leaned back in her chair. "First of all, sorry to disappoint you, but there's no manual on how to bring back memories. Everything's individual, and whatever works for one person, won't work for another. It's like a game of associations. Certain things or words might associate with certain things or words for you, but for me or for our girl here they will be different. I can say 'sea' and it could mean the world to you and nothing to her," she nodded at B and continued. "So there's no specific advices on how to trigger memories, but the chances rise considerably during the conversation. So my advice is talk. About anything and everything. Ask each other questions and the more random and sudden these questions will be, the more the chance is to just startle the answer out of the partner. Use the yes-no questions, ask her opinions about anything you can think of." She turned her eyes to B and told her, "It doesn't matter that you don't know yourself, honey, you still have opinions and thoughts about things and if those won't help you remember they certainly will help you to re-discover yourself." She smiled gently, and I glanced at B noticing how hopeful she looked. I squeezed her hand and she smiled a little, squeezing right back.

"Don't be too hard on yourself though, both of you," the Doc said gently. "There's a good chance the memories won't come back that easily, and there's no way to know for sure. Still, I think Edward's support and interest will help with other issues, like your self-confidence or self-possession. Don't you think, sweetheart?" She smiled at B, to which she blushed.

"I'm sure it will help," she whispered avoiding looking at me.

"Okay." Maggie smiled widely and clasped her hands in front of her. "Edward, if you don't have any more questions, I'd like to have a regular session with my patient."

"No, thank you very much, Dr.– Maggie." I shook my head and stood up to shook her hand.

"You're welcome. Don't hesitate to contact me if anything."

"I will, thanks." I turned to Bambi and tapped her on the nose once, making her smile. "I'll wait outside," I told her quietly and she nodded.

There still was forty minutes of the session left and I roamed aimlessly along the quite corridors, until I saw my dad leaning against the wall and reading a chart.

"Watcha doing?" I asked casually and he started a little.

"Edward, hey," he said surprised. "What are you doing here?"

I told him about the meeting with Dr. Brown and proceeded to rant about her suggestions, basically having a conversation with myself, but dad didn't object or interrupt until I finished.

"That's a nice idea with unexpected questions. Maybe you should try blurting out random names as well, huh?"

He chuckled and started to say something else, obviously meaning this suggestion in jest, when I exclaimed, "That's brilliant, Dad!" I glanced at my watch and noted that there still was plenty of time. "I gotta run, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Where are you going?" He shouted to me, as I sprinted down the hall.

I slowed down and turned to him, but didn't stop walking towards the exit.

"I don't know too many names!" I answered loudly raising my hands a little. "Thought a book might help." Book store it is.

I was gone and back in the parking lot in a record time. I stayed in the car and was thumbing through the pages of the Big Baby Names Book (which fit into my hand and wasn't thicker than two of my fingers), when B opened the door and planted herself on the passenger seat with an 'umph'.

I turned to her and smiled when I saw she wasn't and haven't been crying.

"You okay?" I asked and stroked her cheek with my knuckles gently.

"I am. It was better… than the last time." She looked down and frowned a little at the memory.

"Good."

I ceased the stroking, but my hand kind of stayed right there, by her face, so I lowered it on her shoulder and grabbed a lock of her hair to twirl between my fingers. I sat like this for a minute, until she noticed the book in my left hand.

"What's this?" She nodded her head at it.

"Oh. It's… uhh, just an idea, okay?" Suddenly I was nervous for some reason. "The Doc said I should blurt out random question, and my dad suggested to blurt out names, and in case I'll ever say the right one, maybe you'll recognize it or something, you know? Is it okay? I mean, that's probably silly and–"

She shushed me with her fingers on my lips, and even if I could speak through them, I wouldn't have, because I was instantly rendered speechless, lost in the feeling of her cold and soft fingertips.

"Stop ranting, it's a great idea," she smiled widely and took away her hand, making my lips tingle from her touch (or maybe just because she pressed a little too hard and the blood started to rush back to them, but who cared).

"You think?"

"Yes, of course! Did you pick one?" She smiled slyly at me and lifted her eyebrows a little.

"Uhh, actually, I didn't even read it, just leafed through it. I thought I'd better do it like this." I closed my eyes, opened the book somewhere in the middle and planted a finger on the page. Opening my eyes I read the name I pointed out and said loudly, "Nicole."

I turned to B to look if she _was _a Nicole. Her eyes were closed, brows furrowed. She twisted her lips from side to side, as if tasting the name, and shook her head 'no'.

"No, I think I'm not a Nicole."

Not letting the heavy silence to settle, I closed the book with a soft clap and turned on the car. "Okay, then, not Nicole," I said with a chuckle. "We'll try again. Honestly, I think I would've been disappointed if you were. I mean, it's a shame to end such a fun game on the first try, right?" I glanced at B and was relieved to see her still smiling.

"Right," she said and nodded with conviction.

* * *

><p><strong>This was short, but I had to start with something, right?<strong>

**So… No promises, but the next chapter is underway. I think I am back… yeah. Oh, and if you're a beta and want to take on some messy work, hit me with a PM, kay? 'Cause honestly, I know my English is well, but it's NOT THAT well. -_-**

**Thank you for still being here.**

**See you next week?**


	13. Chapter 12

**I'm not SM, I'm Jack's sweaty palms.**

**Chapter song – Possibility by Lykke Li**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12<p>

A week had passed. Everything seemed to be the same, yet there were some changes. For example, it started raining non-stop and Red decided to quit his pilgrim life and grace me with his presence in my house. I suspected that Bambi was the one to blame, because I knew him for a very long time, and he had never set foot inside, even though he had the opportunity (also I might or might not have tried to lock him inside on one snowy night. Yeah, the scratches on my wooden back door proved it to be a disaster). But once the fucker was introduced to Bambi, he instantly turned from a lone pirate to a cuddly clingy pet. Bambi's pet, mind you. I still was viewed as a servant. _Whatever_.

I allowed him to stay (and by allowed I mean that I didn't stand a chance against B's excited smile and pleading eyes and caved at the first flatter of her eyelashes) on one condition – she had to wash his filthy ass. And she did. More so, she didn't have any troubles with him. He had to be a dog in his past life, because he certainly behaved like one, understanding the 'come here', 'no' and 'wait'. Spoken in B's soft voice of course. Cue eye roll.

Bambi and I worked out some kind of a routine. On days when she didn't have therapy I slept in a little and always woke up to a delicious breakfast. We spent our days together, talking, walking, watching movies, reading, cooking… She found out she could bake and did it as often as she could; there always was fresh bread and buns for breakfast.

We've followed the Doc's advice, of course, and were doing a lot of talking. It sure did help, even though we still didn't reveal anything concrete. At least Bambi and I started to learn things about who she was. She loved The Beatles and Jane Austen, and turned out she read all of her novels. She was fairly certain that she haven't been anywhere outside US. She loved animals and the smell of clean clothes and rains. I laughed at this last one and suggested that she didn't come from a rainy state, because everyone here disliked it at best. She hated poetry and liked to read negative reviews on the movies she didn't like, saying that it was nice to know that someone agreed with her. I didn't get it. If you just spent two hours on a horrible movie, why the hell would you go online and read about what exactly was bad in it?

She loved to read and there always was a book on her nightstand. She was an early riser and didn't like to sleep in, saying she started to feel inadequate if she did. I freaked out at that, telling her she didn't have to cook breakfast and do stuff around the house, but she shushed me sternly and told me it wasn't about me, but about herself. She just liked to get things done, not lying around, thinking about or ignoring them.

She never left a kitchen dirty, and when I asked her if she cleaned it just because it wasn't her kitchen, she admitted that she hated messy countertops and dirty dishes. I agreed with her wholeheartedly and she laughed, telling me it was a good thing she was so neat, otherwise my OCD would've gone through the roof. I scoffed at that, but knew she was onto me. She must've noticed how I always picked up towels she left on the counter and hung them on a stove handle, or how I always cleaned the sink after washing dishes so the metal shone like new. She learned to do all these things, too. Even though she didn't get it why I needed two different towels for cleaning the countertops and dining table.

Slowly we were learning to live together. And it was fucking fantastic. In whole, Bambi was a kick-ass roommate. She was quiet, neat, calm, and she could cook the most delicious meals, even though I'd never admit it to my mom. She was caring and witty and kind. Almost to an extreme. Once she'd found a huge spider in the living room. I was reading a book and she was standing by the window, staring outside, where it was raining _again_. Suddenly she shrieked and jumped away, breathing heavily and clutching at her chest. I instantly thought she saw something or _someone _outside and felt alarmed and, frankly, spooked, but when she pointed at a fat spider, which was moving slowly down the window pane, I laughed and suggested she take a heavy book and kill him. I was kidding of course; I wouldn't want its non-existing guts all over one of my books. _Ew_. I was chuckling halfheartedly, but it was short-lived, because Bambi pinned me with a ferocious glare and marched to the kitchen, all flaming cheeks and glinting eyes. I thought that maybe I hurt her feelings _somehow_ and was about to get up and investigate, when she stormed back in the room, a glass and wooden coaster in hand.

So what do you think, she fucking _rescued _the little fucker. Caught him in the glass, put the coaster on and carried it to the porch. All with a look of disgust on her face.

I was speechless. And amused, to be completely honest.

I also didn't give up on sort-of-Dad's idea. I picked out names in the same fashion and checked them out afterwards, but I didn't just right out ask her what did she think about a certain name – I called her by it. Casually, using it as a conversation starter. Like, "Hey, Linda, you want some tea?" Or "Vivian, could you pass me the salt, please?" At first she was confused as hell, probably wondering if I lost it, but then she got used to me blurting out random names. Sometimes she'd scrunch up her nose in distaste, other times she'd think for a few seconds, and once it even led to uncontrollable laughter from both of us, when I said in a deep voice: "Hello, Zelda" when she was passing me with a sweep in hand. Our laughter was followed by gasps and wide eyes once we realized she remembered this Friends episode. It wasn't such a big victory to me, because honestly, who doesn't watch Friends? But Bambi thought otherwise, and that evening we celebrated by watching this episode. And twenty more.

All in all, we got bits and pieces here and there, and the puzzle oh-so-slowly was getting done. We weren't in a rush though. I know I wasn't.

To be honest, I was terrified of what would come once she'd remember herself. In just tree weeks I grew attached to this girl in ways I've never been attached to anyone in my whole life. Her soft nature and beauty lured me in and I didn't know what to do with myself or with this unusual situation. With her every move I liked her more and more to the point, where it was bordering on uncomfortable.

She was recovering both physically and mentally. And she was starting to get comfortable in the house, in my presence, in her own skin… And it only added to her beauty, which could make me hard in a second. I was at the point, where I didn't even need to see her long smooth legs, disappearing under a small towel, wrapped around her (which I did when I was walking by her slightly open bedroom door). No, the simplest brush of her hand against my back, when we were cooking, a whiff of her hair, when she joined me on the porch and the wind blew in my direction, her voice alone, and her laughter was driving me wild. I wanted to hug her, really hug her, and kiss her, and bury my fingers in her soft hair, and slide my hand down her back and up her ribcage, and…

But I was also afraid. I didn't even know if she liked me back, if she even wanted some sort of relationship… I doubted she did, though. Not in her state. Which sucked goat's ass. Not her state, though. The whole situation.

I shook my head frustrated with the direction my thoughts turned and stabbed out my cigarette, scowling.

It was Thursday and fucking raining heavily. You'd think I'd get used to it in eighteen years that I lived here. Ha, no.

I walked back inside from the porch and found B standing by the window in the living room, staring at the sky, a cup of tea in her hands. She loved to look at the stormy clouds. And she loved tea. Sweet and strong black with lemon. This kind of thoughts always left me yearning for something…

"Danielle," I said loudly and she jumped a little, but not enough to spill out the tea, thankfully.

She turned to me and shook her head, smiling sadly.

"Nope."

"That one fits though. Unlike Daisy." I cringed and B scrunched up her nose, which too was on the list of things she did that turned me on. Ugh.

"I thought you left?" She asked and sipped her tea.

"I did, but it's raining pretty hard. Thought, I'd take the car."

"Oh. Drive safely then." She smiled and I automatically smiled back.

"I always do. Goodbye," I said and stuffed my hands deep into my jeans pockets.

"Bye."

And we just stood there in the not-so-uncomfortable silence, staring at each other and smiling softly. We always did that. That silence begged for me to say something else. It also intimidated me. And foolishly led me to believe there was something between us. Some… possibility.

Work was exceptionally busy by the end of the night, because Jacob was away. He went to Seattle with his dad to do his yearly check up in the hospital.

I already started cleaning, when Jasper walked in and asked if he still could get a beer. His visit surprised me in a good way. He looked… better. Rested and calm. There was some light in his eyes as well.

We ended up sitting at the bar, talking and drinking (OJ in my case). Things between him and Alice started to get better. They finally talked to each other and shared their feelings about the loss they went through. Jasper mentioned something about finding a shrink at which I scoffed but wished him luck. I was glad he started to get his shit together. It wasn't just him who was hurt, so there was no point in closing himself off. He had his wife, his best friend, hurting just us much, if not more. They needed each other. Good thing they finally realized it.

We stayed a little late and Jasper helped me tidy the place up. If it wasn't for him, I'd probably be stuck here until 3 am. We've finished half past two, though, and I drove him home. He offered me a drink, saying that Alice was at her mom's for the night, but I declined, anxious to get home to my girl.

I was driving slowly, because the rain was so bad. It started thundering and I wondered absently, if Red was afraid of the storm and hiding under the cover with B. Was it normal to get jealous of a cat? _Ugh._

I needed to do something. To make some kind of move. At least for the sake of finding out if she even liked me, if nothing else.

I wanted her and I needed to man up and act on it somehow.

A loud crackle in the sky either mocked me or encouraged me.

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><p><strong>It turns out to be a slow burn, eh? <strong>

**Two hidden shout outs in this chapter: to my dear friend Bacon, who'd probably never read this fic, though, lol. She's my Friends fangirl buddy. And the 'goat's ass' is from the best fic of them all – Clipped Wings and Inked Armor. I often use this phrase.**

**No offense to all Daisies out there, by the way! I'm not responsible for what E/B think of it. He he.**

**See ya next week, guys! Please, review.**


	14. Chapter 13

**I'm not SM, I'm Jack's guilty conscious.**

**( this is still unbeta'ed and I'm still in need of a beta, jsyk. hope it's readable :/ )**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

I parked in front of the house and was surprised to see that the lights were on in the living room. I thought that maybe Bambi forgot to switch it off, and instantly felt annoyance creeping in. _What?_ I just don't like it when the light's on when nobody needs it.

I felt my resolve starting to slip; overshadowed by the sourness my mood was poisoned with. Man, was I grumpy sometimes.

I stomped up to the front door and let myself in. I was about to turn off the lights and continue my stomping to my bedroom (albeit quietly, I wasn't an asshole), when I saw Bambi, standing by the same window she was this afternoon when I left.

"Bambi, why are you still up?" I asked, somewhat relieved that the lights were indeed _needed. _

She turned to me, her eyes slightly red and the skin of her face a little blotchy. "Edward," she whispered as if she was surprised to see me.

I went to her and cupped her face, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs.

"Hey, what's wrong now? Are you afraid of the storm?" Sure, she loved rain, but a storm was a different story, especially like the one that was raging outside.

She shook her head a little, her breathing started to quicken.

"I don't know, I don't know what is it," her voice broke but she sucked in a breath and blinked away the tears. "I just… I feel _so fucking anxious_. I can't sit still, and I can't read, and I can't do _anything_, I'm just…" She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, a pained expression on her face.

I hugged her and started to stroke her hair and rocking gently from side to side. She took a shuddering breath and hugged me back weakly.

"Did you take anything?" I asked her softly. She was mainly off the meds, but took a light sedative from time to time to help her sleep or relax.

I felt her shaking her head again. "I didn't want to," she mumbled, her voice muffled.

"You know, it's okay to take a pill once in awhile, right?" I whispered. She nodded and sighed.

"Still, I want to deal with it myself. Can you… can you just sit with me? For a little while?" She lifted her chin a little, sticking her nose into my neck and taking a deep calming breath.

"Of course. Come on." I tucked her under my arm and led her to the couch. Once we were seated, she snuggled close to my side and I put my chin on her head, stroking her arm with my hand. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked quietly. She shook her head and hugged me around the middle.

"Maybe tomorrow?" She mumbled.

"Okay," I said and stifled a yawn.

We sat like that for a while and I started to nod off, but fought it in case Bambi would want to talk or something, but when her breathing evened out and her hands loosened a bit around me, I gave in.

I contemplated carrying her to her room, but I was so damn warm and comfortable right here with her, that I settled for lowering us to the couch, tucking B between the back of it and myself. With my nose buried in her soft hair I finally fell asleep.

-x-X-x-X-x-

It seemed like only an hour passed, when I woke up. I didn't open my eyes at first; enjoying the comfortable position I was in: warm all over, a soft small body pressed against mine, our legs tangled… Fuck, I didn't feel like that in years… And it felt fucking fantastic.

Suddenly I was startled by the feel of cold but soft fingertips on my cheekbone. I opened my eyes and stared in Bambi's wide open ones, a serious expression on her face. I didn't dare say anything, or even move. I watched as she lifted her head a little from my arm that was serving her as a pillow, and like in a slow motion moved closer to my face. Her eyes seemed to go even wider, when she stopped just for a fraction of a second, before slowly, tenderly pressing her lips to mine.

I was so shocked, that for a moment I laid frozen like a stone, but then I leaned back a little, breaking our kiss, and started at her with a small frown. A million and one question ran through my mind, but I shut it all out, and just looked at her face, which didn't show any signs of remorse or fear or anything. She looked calm. Peaceful. Beautiful.

Why the fuck was I always so hesitant, when this broken woman was always so sure in her actions, even though she didn't have any solid ground under her feet? Oh, _to hell with this, _I thought and slowly but surely moved right back and kissed her.

She gasped and I took it as an opportunity to suck her plump lower limp into my mouth, nipping at it a little, and sighing in the process, because fuck me, it felt incredible.

Her hands suddenly went crazy as if she realized she could touch and kiss me at the same time, and touch me she did, clutching at my hair and stroking my cheekbones.

She ran her tongue over my top lip and I reciprocated eagerly, but tenderly, touching it with my own at first, and then slowly deepening the kiss. I hugged her around the waist with my free hand, and lifted myself up on the elbow to hover over her.

I didn't know many things about this girl, but I did know for sure that she was a fantastic kisser. Tender, sexy, patient, sensual… I groaned when she bit my lower lip and then soothed the spot with her tongue, sucking and licking, and kissing, and I couldn't help but start to rub myself against her hip, which made her freeze for a second and then moan. Fucking _moan. _Couple it with the wet noises our lips made, the soft rustling of clothes and a hundred and one year without sex on my part and I was about to explode on the spot.

I tore myself away from her lips, gasping for air, but I didn't go far away, our foreheads were still touching. As was ninety five percent of our bodies.

"Shit, Bambi," I said, still out of breath. "Don't think that I'm complaining, because _fuck no,_" I confirmed it with a little kiss on her opened mouth, "but what brought this on?"

She shrugged and smiled shyly at me. "I wanted to. For a _long_ time."

She looked so cute and sexy lying like that under me, her eyes wide awake and excited, her cheeks slightly red, as were her swollen lips, soft curly hair sprawled all over my arm that was still under her head.

I leaned down and kissed her again, slowly but surely slipping my tongue inside her mouth. She sighed contentedly and hugged me around the neck lazily, smiling in the kiss and ending it consequently. I kissed her smile one, two, tree times and brought my hand to her face to stroke her cheek.

"I'm glad you did," I said, kissing her nose. "I did too. I was just too chicken shit to do it." But now I didn't have to worry about that, so I kissed her again and again. And then one more time. And once after that.

She started to giggle and nuzzled her face into my neck, hugging me tightly.

"Edward?" she murmured.

"Hmm?" I hummed, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.

"I really, _really _like you. And… no matter what will happen, I… I'm glad I met you. You make me feel happy. _Whole. _Even though I'm not."

"But you will be, Bambi," I said, kissing her hair. And I hoped that I won't be forgotten, when the girl she was will be remembered.

We lay like that for some time, but then I suddenly remembered that it was Friday and Bambi had to be at the hospital for her therapy session. Fortunately, it was only seven and we still had plenty of time.

B got busy in the kitchen while I took a shower (which involved some cold water), and after breakfast I drove her to the hospital and this time I said goodbye with a kiss (which involved some tongue).

Instead of going back home, I decided to stay right there in the parking lot and catch up on some sleep, which I did fabulously, and when B returned one hour later, I woke up rested and refreshed.

"Hey, Jessica," I said, rubbing my hands over my face. "How was it?"

She surprised me by leaning in and kissing me softly on the lips.

"It was okay," she said against my lips. "And I'm not Jessica," she added leaning back, a small smile on her face. "Were you here the whole time?"

"Yup, I took a nap. Learned something new about yourself?" I asked while starting the car and driving out of the parking lot.

She shrugged noncommittally. "It's more about getting comfortable in my own mind than learning anything," she said thoughtfully. "Maggie and I are just talking, discussing my life, my feelings and thoughts… Just like _we _do. I even think that talking to you made me more good, than these sessions." She mumbled the last part, staring at her fingers knotted in her lap.

I put my hand over hers and rubbed my thumb over her fingers.

"Hey, it's like you have two Edward's to talk to. More chances to discover something important."

She smiled brightly at me and said, "It's not the same with her."

"Well, she's a doctor after all, I wouldn't–"

"No, Edward. With her I'm just a patient, a complicated case… I just answer her questions to help her do her job. With you I'm alive. I am me. I am _Bambi._"

I grinned smugly and brought her hand to my lips, kissing it noisily.

"Yeah?" I asked proudly.

She giggled and echoed, "Yeah."

She tugged her hand out of my grasp to put her hair into a pony tail, and I was so enthralled with the sight of her slender neck, that I didn't hear her question.

"Huh?" I asked ever so eloquently, snapping my head back to the deserted road.

"Where are we going?" she repeated and turned in her seat so she was facing me.

"Oh, to the grocery store. We're out of cat food and milk, and… pretty much everything."

She hummed and continued to stare at me.

"What?" I asked, trying to pay attention to the road.

She shook her head and grinned, "Nothin'. I just… I feel so normal with you."

"And without me?" I asked and frowned.

"And without you I feel lost. Empty. Like there's nothing left to remember." She shrugged with one shoulder and turned her head to the windshield.

I grabbed her hand again and squeezed it softly.

"It's nothing, really," she said and glanced at me with a sad smile. "I know it's okay to feel this way. And I'm so glad you found me. You've become something like an anchor to me. Your strength and support is basically all I have now. And I'm so _so _grateful, Edward." Her eyes were full of tears, but she didn't let them fall and smiled at me.

"I'm glad I found you, too," I said, my voice thick with emotions.

We were already at the grocery store, so instead of saying anything else, I parked, got out of the car and made my way to the passenger's side. Once B stepped out, I tugged at her arm and pulled her into a tight hug. She didn't protest and hugged me around the waist, nuzzling her face between my shoulder and neck.

"I really, really like you Bambi," I said, burying my nose in her hair. "Whatever will come… I…" _I hope you will stay with me, _I thought, but couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. "I will always be there for you."

She placed a small kiss on my neck and hugged me tighter.

She was so small in my arms, so frail. I wanted to never let her go, to protect her from all the sadness and anxiety and fears. But I couldn't stop the inevitable, and there was no point in denying it or worrying about it. So I decided to let it all go, and just enjoy her presence in my life to the fullest.

I leaned back and cupped her face in my hand, looking into her eyes.

"Now how about some shopping?" I asked.

She nodded with a small smile and I couldn't help, but kiss, kiss, kiss her again, softly and briefly at first, and then more slowly and deeply, not giving a fuck about the show we were putting on.

I needed to stop with all the worrying and second guessing. I needed to learn to live in the moment, to enjoy what I have and welcome the future, whatever it will bring. Just like Bambi did.

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><p><strong>Damn, do they kiss a lot. <strong>

**Sorry for the wait. Work was craaaazy (in a good way). **

**So whaddaya think? B's such a bold little cookie! And Ed is such a worriwart, humph. Dude needs to chill. All the kissing seems to be helping, though! **


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